Positive Reinforcement
by aliasmel1
Summary: Lucius Malfoy needs a permit to import a Hungarian Horntail. But a bushy-haired little know-it-all isn't just going to hand it over willingly. She is going to make him work for the privilege to do so and in the process, she might find out he isn't as bad as she had once thought.
1. Chapter 1

Hermione's posture stiffened as a shadow cast over the desk she was sitting at, the quill in her hand halted from scribbling on parchment, now it hovered without purpose, a single drop of ink slid slowly off the tip and landed silently on the parchment below.

Two years ago she had been promoted to the head of the Department of Magical Creatures, working her way up very quickly through the ranks.

"How can I-" She looked up right into the cold, grey eyes of Lucius Malfoy. "Help you?" she said slowly, almost in a hushed whisper, her mouth in an instant went dry and her palms began to perspire rapidly.

"Mrs. Weasley…" He trailed off, raising a brow casting a scrutinous gaze over the girl he hadn't seen in quite a few years. She was still the bushy-haired little bitch he had known to come and loathe, albeit she may have grown a few more centimeters.

"Miss Granger," She countered sternly.

"Indeed. My condolences on your long-winded and difficult divorce you are going through."

She gnawed her bottom lip hard between her teeth. He still had the strong chiseled jaw and the long, blonde hair, he still dressed well but something was missing. Perhaps it was the air of over arrogance he usually shrouded himself in. Maybe losing Narcissa was the one thing he needed to knock his arrogance down a few pegs.

Hermione, now at twenty-three years of age had married and was now partway through a very public and messy divorce that was usually splashed through the daily prophet every second day. Ronald wasn't making the whole ordeal easy and she loathed him for that. She wanted to split everything equally and fairly but not him, he wanted more, he wanted to take the entirety of their possesions to spite her and leave her high and dry with nary a thing to her name just to teach her a lesson.

Not that she had done anything wrong; she had just grown tired of being saddled with an inept and barely engaging male. He was drab and he had the conversation skills of a dead Niffler. Actually, no, that was even giving him too much credit. Unless she talked about Quidditch, or how great he was at playing Quidditch, or went to a Quidditch match then he didn't want to know her and he didn't want to talk to her and she was over it.

It seemed if you were a war heroine, the public was a lot more interested in your messy affairs and business than any normal person off of the street and the media often skewed and warped the truth far beyond the realm of normality.

"They told me I needed to see you, they assured me you could quickly and easily grant me the permit I need."

"How can I help you?" She asked, her voice as stiff as her body language towards him.

"I need a permit for a dragon," He said so casually she was sure he might have just asked her about the weather.

"A dragon?" Her eyebrows knitted together in confusion and disbelief. "What illegal or untoward reason do you require a dragon."

"Not just any dragon, a Hungarian Horntail."

"A horntail?" She shrieked a little too loudly, the others in her office turned to look at her. "Why on earth do you need a Hungarian Horntail," her voice dropping several octaves.

"Well, you see. Prior to the war, I could have pulled a few strings and the dragon would have been here within hours with no issue. Now, everything seems to be tied up in ridiculous red tape. We need a permit for this and a permit for that, soon we will need a permit to take a shit," he said exasperated, his face screwing up in disgust.

"In other words, you are no longer held in high enough notoriety or esteem to line a few palms and get what you desire?" She smiled a mockingly sweet smile at him, which only saw his narrow his eyes into slits for a few seconds."

"Can I have my dragon or not, Miss Granger? I grow tired of your antics."

"And what intents and purposes do you require the said dragon. Guarding a dungeon, guarding your illegal offshore bank accounts…"

"Well actually, I need it to protect me."

She snorted so loudly she surprised even herself. "You are a wizard, Mister Malfoy you can protect yourself. You have warded your mansion up to the hilt. I am not granting you a permit to import a dragon."

"Well you see," he began, before pulling out a chair uninvited and sitting gently upon it. "Even the strongest and the best wards can be _penetrated_ , no matter how _hard_ they may be to break down. Everything can be _penetrated_ , Miss Granger."

She flushed a shade of crimson, her cheeks feeling as if they were on fire as she caught a few keywords in what he had said and it unsettled her some, turning her into a vapid, blushing school girl again.

"There are dark wizards, Miss Granger still running free. They have reason to want to come after me and to end me, and now the war is but a shadow in everyone's mind and the protection that was placed over my Manor to keep them all out is weakening and cannot be renewed. They will no doubt be after me with a score to settle. Dark wizards bring dark magic far beyond what I can protect myself against if they all took the chance to gang up." He gently reached out to a dragon statue on her desk, fingering it gently absentmindedly.  
"There are more than dark wizards who wish to kill you." She quirked a single brow. "And Sorry. I don't care if Voldemort himself were after you, you aren't having a dragon," She said matter of factly, folding her arms tight across her chest and jutted her chin out.

"I feel you are harboring a lot of animosity towards me," he asked with a surprised, upward inflection.

"You think… Of all of the horrible and disgusting things you have done and said to me over the years, do you honestly expect me to welcome you into my office with open arms and grant you a permit straight off the bat?"

"Well, actually, yes. I can make it very worth your while if you see things my way." He reached into his coat pocket, pulling out a small, heavy sack the chinked as he did so.

"Are you bribing me?!" She asked with surprised anger.

"Don't think of it as a bribe…Think of it as encouragement."

"I don't take bribes," She said flatly. Tossing her mass of curls over her shoulder defiantly.

"I suggest you think about it… I can make the long, angry divorce between you and Weasley be done in an instant…"

"I don't take bribes and I barely take suggestions."

"No wonder Weasley sent you packing, such a disobedient wife," he tutted.

She snorted. "I left him."

"Oh yes, I forgot the whole strong, independent woman persona is strong with you. How quintessential. I bet you kept his balls in your purse."

She chose to ignore him and she wanted to send him on his way, but at the same time she wanted to make him jump through a series of unnecessary hoops to get the permit he needed to import and own a dragon just to pay back for being a total pompous cunt the entire time she had ever known him. Now, she didn't use that word lightly, or hardly at all, but in these circumstances, it was warranted.

"I'll tell you what. You read these books on POSITIVE reinforcement and if you can prove to me you will use only this to train the dragon and not negative or pain based training then I will grant you your permit, but only once you have proven to me your fully understand the workings on positive reinforcement and you agree to letting me drop in at any time to check the progress of your training."

She ducked under the large desk, pulling out a pile of books almost as tall as she was. With a grunt and a groan, she had managed to place them all on the wooden desk.

"A bit of light reading, huh?" He quipped.

"Just a little."

"What exactly is this positive reinforcement you speak of?" He tried to feign an interest in what she had to say so he could boost the odds of getting his dragon.

"Well," she began, and he just knew, right there and then with the well that she was about to go on a tirade of knowledge.

"When an animal offers a behavior you want, you reward them with something they want, usually, with animals its food. You reward for any effort of the desired attribute you are trying to train. So say you are trying to teach a dog to sit, you reward even the slightest pressure backward and eventually the dog gets lower and lower, which reinforcing the cue as either a word or a physical one."

"Interesting. And you expect me to use the same principals on a dragon. A fire breath, eat you in one mouthful, angrier than Severus Snape was, dragon."

"It's universal. Any animal can benefit from it, Mister Malfoy. It is very interesting and the kindest way to teach an animal. You don't have to use pain and fear to get the behavior you want. Kindness goes a long way." She looked at him pointedly.

"This positive reinforcement… Can you use it on humans?"

She looked perplexed for a moment, blinking as she tried to think… "I don't see why not. Obviously, humans probably don't respond as well to food-based rewards as animals but anything the person desires could be a good reward, money would probably work well with most."

"Indeed," A glint crossed his grey eyes.

"Obviously with humans, you could do it without them knowing. Start small, offer them a reward and work your way up. Eventually, they know they will be rewarded for their actions and willing to do anything for you."

"Anything, you say?" His interest piqued, leaning on the desk.

"Anything."

"And it would be totally legal, unlike the imperious curse,"

"Precisely."

She shook her head for a moment, she was so caught up in the conversation she had forgotten with whom she was talking to and what she was talking about.

"Forget I said anything,"

"Of course."

"Anyway," she changed the subject. "Take these books, and then once you have a full understanding of what positive reinforcement is come back and see me and we may discuss granting you a permit for the dragon your heart so desperately desires."

"Thank you, Miss Granger. I will be taking my leave." He stood, bringing himself up to full height, towering over her and turned on his heel, striding from the office with a purpose.

She groaned with frustration. If she knew one thing, she shouldn't expect to see Lucius Malfoy back for a very, very long time. Or so she hoped.

 **A/N: The plot bunnies in my head are psycho's, hopping around on the loose high on sugar, footloose and fancy-free. Like I needed another fiction to add to my list of works in progress… Someone pray for me.**

 **My first Lumione, I hope you all enjoy it…**

 **-Aliasmel1**


	2. Chapter 2

Lucius Malfoy laid barechested in his bed later that night. The finest black silken sheets he could find draped loosely over his legs, stopping at his waist, continued on by a smattering of blonde hair peeking from below the sheets training up to his belly button and moving onto a toned, milky white chest.

Long platinum hair that was the envy of woman everywhere hung loosely over each broad shoulder, which gave way to equally strong biceps and arms. His physique wasn't terrible for an older man and his chiseled and prominent features rendered him somewhat handsome and he knew it. One of the books Hermione had given him clutched loosely in one hand, eyes darting from side to side drinking in every word on the pages. Every bit of knowledge he could get on the subject he would. He wanted that damn dragon and no little Mudblood bitch would be standing in his way.

He lowered the book a touch, looking to the empty half of the bed. He sighed sadly and snapped the book shut and set it down beside the bed. A single white hand ghosted over the empty side where Narcissa once slept peacefully beside him and a lump formed in his throat and tears pricked every so gently at his eyes.

He hated being here alone, and he hated lying beside her empty spot every night. He missed inhaling her scent and holding her lithe frame in his strong arms. A shuddery breath escaped his lips as he rubbed his eyes with the palms of his hands.

He hated sleeping because he would have nightmares about what had happened to his wife. To see someone you love killed in cold blood before your eyes because of a stupid, trivial matter could cut even the most bitter person to the core and drive them to hatred and resentment.

He slid down in bed, closing his eyes and imagined himself inhaling his wife's light fruity scent tangled with vanilla and he groaned just a little in frustration and sadness.

He was lonely, so very, very lonely. Sure, he had Draco but not in the capacity that a woman could hold his attention and give him what he needed.

-o-o-o-o-

Hermione went home that night in a right foul mood. Not only did she have to deal with the biggest jerk in the world today, and she knew a lot of people so giving him that honor of that title wasn't taken lightly, she had to deal with Ron and his shit. Actually, maybe Lucius wasn't the biggest jerk but he was a close second.

She stormed into the home her parents had left behind when Hermione had sent them on their way. She never did get their memories back but she had learned to deal with it after a few years and it was no longer a sore spit with her.

She kicked the black heels off of her aching feet sighing in relief but also in anger that he was still here. Every day she woke up and went to work in hope that he would have packed up and moved out by the time she got home only to have that hope squashed like an ant under a shoe when she would come home and see he was still here.

He wasn't a terrible person; he was just… annoying and unintelligent to her. He worked hard and he did love her but sometimes he could be a downright twat light right now. She tried to end it with him amicably but in true Ron fashion he wouldn't take no for an answer and once he did accept the fact, he wanted to hurt her as much as she hurt him and the only way to do that was by dragging on the divorce for as long as he could and try to take every single worldly possession and every single galleon she had.

Unfortunately for him, there wasn't a lawyer, wizard or Muggle (he was so desperate for things to go his way he actually sought legal counsel from a Muggle Lawyer) that would accommodate his request. They had all said she was being more than fair by wanting to split the belongings and the money halfway down the middle equally, but Ron didn't want that because he wouldn't get the last say and he didn't get to hurt her the way he wanted.

She stormed to her room, passing Ron for a brief moment sitting on the lounge; he went to greet her but decided against it when she scowled at him hard. She slammed the door to her room hard. So hard the wall around it shook for a few seconds. She refused to share a room with him so took the spare room because once again, he wouldn't even let her have the main bedroom in her own house. She hated the fucking audacity of the little chit and wished he would grow up and move on instead of harboring animosity for such trivial things. People got divorced every day of the week, but here he was acting as if he were the first person it had ever happened to.

It didn't help that Molly was siding with him and had given Hermione a stern talking to for not trying to fix things with Ron. She had basically placed the entirety of the blame upon Hermione making out that she was the one with the issues and she needed to learn to deal with them but the truth was she had just outgrown Ron and there was no amount of begging, pleading or otherwise that would alter the way she felt about him.

Harry, on the other hand, was more accepting of the fact, granted he was in a relationship with Ginny and they seemed to be going incredibly well they both got where Hermione was coming from. Ron was a lot of work. He could be unbearable at times and if his own sister and best friend thought that then she felt her feelings were warranted.

She needed someone engaging, someone, who didn't see her as a personal maid and cook. She didn't need to hear about the latest Quidditch game or the newly released brooms. She honestly didn't care and years and years of listening to the same things was enough to send someone spare. She needed someone challenging yet intelligent, she needed someone who would treat her as an equal and not like a slave.

She sighed as if anyone like that ever existed.

-o-o-o-o-

"You failed, Draco," rasped the Dark Lord, his piercing red eyes flashing with anger and hatred.

"My lord… I finished the task it matters not if the boy failed," Severus said coolly. If he had any ebbing of worrying within him, he wasn't showing it.

"Ssssilence, Severussss" the Dark Lord hissed, holding a cold, gray hand up to signal him to stop talking.

"While you succeeded in killing that filthy muggle lover, Dumbledore, Draco failed in doing the task I set him and he needs to be punissshed."

The Dark Lord often hissed like the snake he was when anger bubbled inside of him

"My lord," Lucius began.

"My Lord," Voldemort mocked in a high falsetto.

"What should your punishment be, Draco?" he twirled his wand between his cold corpse-like fingers.

"Should I kill your father?" He pointed his wand at Lucius. Lucius balked a little, eyeing the wand apprehensively.

"Or should I kill Severus for stepping in where you failed?" He pointed the wand at Snape who didn't even as much as flinch, and Lucius admired his ability to show no emotion in the face of potential death.

"Or, should I kill your dear mother?" He pointed the wand at Narcissa who had thus far been standing there minding her own business in a silent panic.

"No!" Draco screamed and it was at that moment he knew he had done the wrong thing by showing the Dark Lord who he cared about the most.

Without a second thought, Voldemort shouted loudly "Avada Kedavra" and Narcissa's lifeless, pale body was dead before she hit the floor. A strangled sob came from Lucius and Draco kneeled down with such force to cradle his mother body he skidded a few centimeters across the marble floor.

Lucius woke up in a cold, damp sweat, his breath coming out in loud pants as he tried to gain his bearings. His hand worked over the empty side of the bed feather soft as a strangled sob emitted from his throat. It had been years since her passing but there was never a day that went by when he didn't miss her and he didn't think about her. Not a day passed when he didn't wish he could have traded places with her and offer himself up as a sacrifice instead.

On the outside, he seemed to be fairing well but deep down, in the deepest depths of himself, he kept his heartache hidden away from the world. The only people to ever see the impact of his wife's death upon him were Severus who took it to his grave with him and Draco who felt the same way about losing his mother.

Neither of the Malfoy men had really gotten over the death of Narcissa, she was the proverbial glue holding their lives together, when she died, when the glue to their lives died, they fell apart quickly and it had only been the past year or two that they had started to rebuild their lives and start to feel normal again.

Lucius rarely left the house now, he had managed to escape Azkaban by divulging priceless, much-needed information in return for his freedom and protection, but he knew there were still dark wizards out and they had a score to settle with him for abandoning their side and leaking classified information to the Ministry.

But now, he liked to live a quiet life, one where he kept to himself. He hardly held the same esteem in the Wizarding World that he did prior and during the war, and that was probably because no one was scared of him anymore.

 **A/N: Wow. I can't believe how well received this story has been. It was an idea I had kicking around in my head for a while and decided to write it. Please bear with me as I get my bearing on Lucius, I can write Snape with my eyes closed, but Lucius is a whole other ball game.**

 **Thank you for the reviews, favorites and follows, it means so much to me!**

 **-Aliasmel1**


	3. Chapter 3

"What on earth are you doing?" Draco asked, leaning casually against the doorframe of the dining room, observing his father who had a book in one hand and toast in the other. What intrigued him the most was he had recently shaven and put his hair back in order. Generally, he looked like a homeless bum wearing little more than a dressing gown and house slippers with wayward locks and a beard that was thick and full of food crumbs. To say Lucius had given up his will to live when Narcissa died was an understatement. His whole life and his whole world died that day and if he didn't have Draco around, he didn't think he would have bothered to stick around either.

"Reading, Draco, honestly, you need to observe your surroundings before asking such redundant questions." He said with a sigh and a roll of his eyes.

It was Draco's turn to sigh dramatically now, "I didn't mean that, I meant all this." His hand hovered over his own face and hair indicating he meant what had caused him to clean himself up

"I had to go out, Draco, to the ministry," He said, disinterested.

"But you never go out," Draco protested.

"Don't you have somewhere to be you wretched child?" Lucius asked casually as he snapped one of the books shut that Hermione had given him and looked incredulously at his son.

"I'm not a child," he scoffed at his father.

"You are my child regardless of your age, Draco, so I stand by what I said."

Draco began to stride across the dining room, he had grown head and shoulders above most of the peers he had gone to Hogwarts with, his platinum hair slicked off to the side, a strong jawline just like his fathers prominent one and probably his most dazzling feature. His physique screamed athleticism, which was no surprise considering he was the number one seeker in Great Britain at the moment and captain of the Chudley Cannons.

"How is Astoria?" Lucius took a meager bite from his toast as Draco plopped down in a chair beside him.

"She is well…" He trailed off looking at an intricate tapestry on the wall opposite him.

"You don't sound very confident in the answer, Draco." Lucius raised a brow in question. "Trouble in paradise?"

"What, no. I love her very much thank you. I just don't know when the timing is right to ask her to marry me… Draco trailed off, his face turning as white as a ghost, the thought of marriage scared him so. He would have rather been hexed by Potter again than ask the woman he loved to marry him for fear of rejection.

"Interesting," Lucius whispered as he tapped his bottom lip in deep thought.

"What's interesting?"

"I never thought I would see this day, honestly."

"I've just been too busy to get married," Draco sniffed.

"Busy spreading your seed into every tight hole that would allow, I'm sure."

"And what were you doing at the ministry anyway?" He harrumphed, trying his best to change the awkward subject he didn't want to talk about anymore.

"I had to see Hermione Granger about something."

"Granger?" Draco asked with a little too much enthusiasm, which made Lucius raise a brow ever so slightly. "How is she, anyway? Not that I care," he added to the end of his sentence to downplay the interest he had feigned.

"I don't know Draco. Her well being was little of my care although the Mudblood bitch wasn't too unfortunate looking, time really helped her out in that department."

"Yes, but why did you go?" He pressed.

"I need a Dragon and she is insisting I jump through a series of ridiculous hoops to get one and I am pretty sure her vendetta against me is personal."

"Oh, you don't say," Draco scoffed with a roll of his eyes. Of course, she had a personal vendetta against him. "Why the fuck do we need a dragon?" he added.

"Protection," Lucius said simply, his gaze cast out the window watching as the rain lightly fell.

"From fucking what? The kids who walk past here twice a fucking day to go to school? No one comes here and no one is bothering us."

"There are still dark wizards out Draco and the protection the ministry put over the house is wearing thin, they have a vendetta to settle with me and they will no doubt use you to get to me, I need the dragon to protect us both."

Draco rolled his eyes so far back in his head he was sure he almost saw his brain. "You have lost it, old man. I knew you were delusional but that takes the fucking cake. No one is after us, everyone is dead or in Azkaban, we don't need a fire-breathing, human eating dragon running around the grounds and we don't need protection because no one is after us," She shouted, exasperated.

"They are out there, Draco, and the sooner you realize this, the better."

"A fucking dragon! You are out of your mind. Why not get a fucking dog then, a big, mean, vicious dog."

"You think a dog is going to be a match for the likes of Dolohov and Lestrange?" He scoffed.

"They are dead, father." Draco scrubbed his palms over his eyes. In disbelief. He was sure it was almost time to commit the old prick to St Mungo's mental institution for mentally unstable and not right in the head wizards.

"That's what the ministry wants you to think."

"So now you are saying the ministry went to the effort of creating a big, elaborate plan to pull the wool over our eyes and make us think they are dead when they aren't."

"Precisely."

"And how do you know this?" Draco asked mockingly.

"The less you know, the better."

"So you have no substantial evidence then?"

"I do."

"Prove it."

"Fuck you really are a wretched child," He said with animosity, pulling out a piece of parchment from his robes, laying it flat on the table and smoothing it over with his palms.

Draco stood up and scooted around behind his father, looking intently at the parchment. It was just a list of names, hastily written in black ink, a line struck through many of the names adorning the list.

"This is what you have as proof? A piece of dirty old parchment and a few names. You really have lost it, old man," Draco snorted, disgusted.

"Look at the names. The ones that are dead are struck through; the ones that are alive remain untouched. I found this piece of parchment long after the Lord fell and with every death from the Dementors kiss each person's name is struck off the list. Notice how we are still on the parchment unaltered, but your mother is not?" He pushed a slender finger hard at her name to further push his point across. "You see Dolohov and Lestrange, they aren't struck off the list which leads me to believe they are still alive, and you know they will be after us for our treacherous ways."

"So you expect me to believe that because a filthy piece of parchment has lines through a few names that Dolohov and Lestrange are still alive." A brow raised and an amused look in his eye told Lucius that perhaps he didn't believe him.

"Yes," He confirmed.

"I can't even deal with you and your crazy ideas right now. I'm going to see about getting you a counselor or something, no normal functioning person should be thinking this." He threw his hands up and walked out. He just couldn't do this right now.

-o-o-o-o-

Hermione sat at her desk and rubbed her temples, she just wanted this divorce to be over and here was her life splashed all over the front of the daily prophet-again. Growling in frustration she threw the stupid thing at the wall with a huff. Why couldn't she just be left alone? Why couldn't he just leave, it was like some game to him, a game he had to win and there was no if, buts or maybes about it, he wanted to be the victor.

When a shadow cast over her desk she almost wanted to scream, she didn't want to be dealing with anyone today, but of course, no one ever left her alone-ever.

"Miss Granger," came the icy cold drawl of no other than Lucius Malfoy and she cringed, visibly cringed so hard he couldn't help but smirk at the reaction she garnered towards him.

"Well I haven't had that reaction from a pretty young girl in a while," and she could hear the amusement dripping from every word he spoke and she knew that he was only buttering her up so he could get his stupid permit for his stupid dragon.

"I… sorry I wasn't… Flattery will get you nowhere, Mister Malfoy, especially when it's hollow and insincere," she countered back at him. The bitch was smarter than he gave her credit for.

"Weren't expecting to see me back so soon?" He questioned, looking at that little bitch as he fished around his robes, pulling out a pile of shrunken books, the ones she had given him and gently placing them on her desk before enlarging them to the right size once again.

"Well, Actually," she ran a shaky hand through her loose curls, "I wasn't expecting to see you back at all."

"I know," he smiled darkly, "I didn't want to disappoint you and I am very, very determined, Miss Granger," his voice dark and his grey eyes flashed with a hint of malice.

"And pray to tell me, Mister Malfoy, where on earth do you plan to keep this dragon? How will you house it, what will you feed it and most of all what spells do you plan on casting on it so it's not visible to Muggles?" She said very matter of factly, folding her arms tightly across her chest and raising just one brow as if she had just one-up-man-shipped him and won. He couldn't have any of this planned.

"Well, you see, Miss Granger." He leaned in close to her and looked left and right to ensure no one would hear him. He lowered his voice to a whisper, "I plan to let it snack on the neighborhood children. Dreadful little cretins they are, much too noisy and Muggles I may add, the world certainly won't miss a few of those."

He had to bite his bottom lip hard when the look on her face changed from sheer defiance to sheer terror and disgust. Her mouth opened and closed a few times but only a low gurgling had managed to escape.

Eventfully she composed her. "Mister Malfoy!" She almost screamed, looking both mortified and terrified.

"I was joking… It was a joke." He flicked his blonde hair over his should and out of his face. "Can I have my dragon or not?"

"No, you most certainly cannot. I need an action plan from you. I need you to fill out these forms and bring them back to me." She slammed the forms with might on her desk in front of him.

He perused the forms, twenty fucking pages long asking him the dragons diet, housing and training fucking methods. He rubbed the bridge of his nose, this was fucking bullshit, she was doing this deliberately.

"We could save us both a lot of time if yo-"

"No."

"If you just-"

"Nope."

"Just lis-"

"I'd prefer not to."

Merlin's fuck balls she was a pig-headed little bitch when she wanted to be, no wonder her husband was like he was.

"I have friends, I can pull strings and your divorce would be over by tonight if you just-," he was cut off- again.

"I don't need your charity and I don't need your help, Mister Malfoy."

"Very well, if you like the drama of a drawn-out and complicated divorce then be my guest but at least let me take you to dinner to discuss everything pertaining to my request instead of filling in the insidious forms." He touched them with disgust as if they might burst into flames and burn his hair.

She blinked at him for a few moments as if her brain had leaped from her skull and taken a walk around the block. She froze, like a deer in headlights. How, why? Why would he even want to be seen in public with her, much less why would she want to be seen in public with him?

"I… That won't be necessary, Mister Malfoy."

"Nonsense, think of it as a business dinner, and don't tell me you have something else on unless you need to run home to that loving husband of yours."

She could tell he was being a smart ass prat, and she really, really wanted to string him along for the longest time before denying him his dragon and watching the smug smirk run away from his face, the same way he would run from her office in anger when she did so.

"Fine," she almost snapped.

"Tonight Miss Granger, I shall pick you up here at six. Unless of course, you had other plans…"

She thought long and hard, go home to Ronald and lock herself in her room while she ignored him the best she could, or go out for dinner with Lucius Malfoy. Both sounded as ghastly as one another if she did say so herself.

"Fine. I will see you then," She huffed in frustration. It had to be better than going home, she would do anything to avoid that.

 **A/N: Here you all go. Thanks for the reviews and favorites! I love you all, and it motivates me to write. I am not sure I will have a strict update schedule for this…I just write when I feel like it and I have a few other stories with priority over this at the moment. Probably look out for it once every two weeks, once a week if you are lucky.**

 **-Aliasmel1**


	4. Chapter 4

Hermione looked forlornly in the large mirror, as her mind cast to the dinner Lucius would be coming to pick her up for in exactly, she looked at her watch, ten fucking minutes. She groaned audibly, frustrated.

Her hair was wayward and out of place and she sported unsightly, tired looking bags under her eyes. She had stress lines on her forehead and she was almost sure she spotted a grey hair twinkling in the light of the bathroom, mocking and taunting her, but she wasn't going to have a closer look thank you very much! Denial was a place easily lived in, and live in it she did well.

The implications of her divorce were starting to catch up on her and she looked like a swamp witch that wouldn't have looked out of place in a Muggle child's fairy tale book. She hadn't been taking care of herself for a long while and she was the first to admit it. She just didn't have the energy to deal with life anymore when she and Ron were constantly in crossfire with one another. She really, really wanted him gone… Now would be great. Or last week would have been even better

Going to dinner with Lucius Malfoy was both intimidating and unusual but she kept reiterating to herself that she would rather do this than go home to Ronald and get into another shit fight with him. Well, fuck. She never thought she would live to see the day when she thought Lucius was a better option over Ron. Oh how times had well and truly changed, she thought to herself. She would actually much rather pledge allegiance to Voldemort right now if he were around if it meant Ron was gone from her life easier.

Rummaging around in her handbag animatedly, she grasped some lipstick and eyeliner without even having to eyeball them. Applying them lightning fast she fished around for a hair tie and tied her wayward mass of curls back, she wrinkled up her nose at the sight of her large, oversized fuzzy ponytail and how ridiculous it looked and removed the hair tie. Her hair bounced back into place with ease. She hated her curly locks so but was never one to really change how she looked too drastically. She was not one to care about looks.

She straightened her clothes and smoothed a hand over the front of her black business skirt. Now she just looked like a swamp witch with makeup. She frowned into the mirror and turned on her heel. Mirrors were the fucking worst for self-confidence, she frowned angrily.

She slowly ambled to the foyer of the ministry, much akin to a person walking to their execution and a large, hard lump formed in her throat and all of a sudden she began to feel anxious like there was a tight band around her ribcage tightening with every breath she took. This was a terrible idea. What the hell was she thinking to agree to this and maybe after all instead of sitting up on her high horse admiring the amazing view she should fall back down to earth and just grant the sod his permit for his stupid dragon and she wouldn't have to be here.

She eyed every exit apprehensively as the cogs of defiance ticked over slowly as if starting up for the first time in a long time. With every agonizing step, she took they began to spin faster and faster and she thought perhaps she could nonchalantly exit stage left and miss the dinner with Lucius and he would forget about this who dragon fiasco and she would never, ever have to see him again.  
But Lucius Malfoy didn't forget things easily and he didn't let go of something once he had his mind set on it. He would do _anything_ to get his way; he always had to have the last say at any cost.

That was until just as if he had known what she was thinking of doing, stepped from the shadows and began to walk towards her with the air or arrogance she had come to know and loathe from when Draco used to execute it flawlessly at Hogwarts and she could now see where Draco had picked it up from. It was probably a trait bred down in their lineage, she thought to herself.

The tap-tapping of his pimp cane (That's what she thought it bore a resemblance to) could be heard with every soft footstep he took echoing in the almost vacant entrance hall.

He stopped for a moment, pretending to brush the invisible dirt off of his shoulder before proceeding towards her. Cocky prick, she thought darkly to herself.

He had his long, blonde hair pulled back into a low ponytail, finished off with a perfectly tied silk ribbon. His robes looked stupidly expensive and well fitting. Of course, she expected no less from him.

"Miss Granger," He drawled softly raising a single arched brow at her as if this was a giant inconvenience, and it was... For her.

"You look-"

"Like a swamp witch, I know," She finished his sentence with lackluster.

"I was going to say satisfactory but now you mention it you do resemble a witch I once met who lived in a swamp…" He trailed off, staring intently at her hair when his eyes softened for a moment in surprise.

"Is that a grey hair? You are much too young to be sporting grey hairs at your age, Miss Granger. Honestly, do you take no pride in yourself?" His tone flat, leaning forward he cast her hair under his scrutinous gaze.

"Why the hell wouldn't it be when you are under the duress I am, I am surprised I have had a heart attack and died yet. And are you always so forward and rude?" Arms folded across her chest lighting fast, foot tapping on the ground and lips pursed, she looked like a scorned mother who's child had come home late and was demanding an explanation.

"You see, Miss Granger, I am a very blunt and forward person. I have no filter between my brain and my mouth and I just say things as they are. If people want things sugar coated then I suggest they visit a sweets store, because you won't be getting anything other than the cold hard truth when you are with me."

"I see," Tone awkward and body language stiff.

"Shall we go?" He asked in an almost bored tone, and she wondered why he was even here if he didn't want to be.

"Because I want my dragon," He said flatly almost as if he had read her thoughts, and maybe he did. "That's why."

Her mouth opened and closed a few times as she went to protest but in the end, she thought better of it. After all, she wasn't ready to hear his truths about her right now.

They walked in silence to the exit of the ministry her a foot or so behind them. Reaching the exit he stopped and stood aside, gesturing with a single leather-clad hand. "Ladies first," he insisted.

She only gave a curt nod, she wanted to say something smart to him but she didn't. She didn't have the fire and the passion within her much lately.

She blinked rapidly taking in the sight of the busy street in the fading daylight, the sun sinking behind the horizon peeking behind large, and looming buildings. A tap on her shoulder brought her from her reverie, turning around to meet the cold, harsh steely slate eyes of Lucius Malfoy. He was a hard man to read, he never really showed much expression.

"Miss Granger, this way." He began to lead the way, striding out quickly and she had to jog slowly in her heels to keep up.

"Can you walk any louder?" He bit, not even casting a backward glance at her as he continued to stride with purpose down a street, took a left and a right and another left.

"I can, actually," She retorted with mock sincerity before putting in a few heavier, louder steps just for good measure.

"Must you be so antagonistic, Miss Granger?" He said coldly, taking another right and then another.

"Depends on who I am with," she huffed, almost breathless. "Why couldn't we just apparate like normal people?" She protested.

"Because we aren't normal, are we? And besides, nothing like a brisk walk to get the old heart pumping."

She only rolled her eyes in response and ran into the back of him with a thud as he stopped abruptly in front of her.

"Honestly, are your eyes painted on?" He asked harshly, stepping away quickly from her.

"If you didn't stop without warning…" She protested angrily.

"If you watched where you were going," He countered.

"Look. I don't like you, and you don't like me. Let just get this incredibly awkward dinner over and done with so we never have to see each other ever again."

"That's the smartest thing I have probably ever heard you say," he proclaimed with the utmost sincerity before stepping forward and opening the doors to a building. It looked expensive, she thought to herself as she walked through the open door her eyes wide as she took in the sights.

She was sure she had never, ever been to a restaurant of this quality or expense in her life. This looked like a place where you came when you had more money than you knew what to do with.

He followed her into the restaurant and sauntered up silkily to the front counter with a total air or arrogance that made her want to vomit. Even after the war, he hadn't been knocked down a few pegs like she ought to have been.

"Mister Malfoy," The slim man with greying hair, green eyes and sharp angular facial features greeted him with a half bow.

"Where would you like me to seat you and your… Friend?" He asked with uncertainty in his voice.

"The usual, Finn," He said casually as the man led them to a booth right in the back in silence.

All of a sudden she felt severely underdressed. So many other women in here were adorned in stunning dresses that would have cost more than her yearly pay cheque she was sure. A steady heat crept into her cheeks and she all of a sudden felt utterly flustered.

She was on autopilot as she followed them across the restaurant, time seemed to go at a glacial pace and she was sure that every set of eyes lay upon her. Of course, that was stupid because they weren't.

She sat absentmindedly and began playing with the hem of her skirt as an awkward silence shrouded them for what felt like an eternity. She was well outside of her comfort zone here. Her mind was weighing up her options and preparing for fight or flight. She wanted to run, she wanted to leave but the headstrong part of her deep down told her to stay where she was. And she was sure he wanted to see her squirm.

"You come here often?" She asked softly, tearing her attention from her skirt to meet his cold stare.

"Sometimes, I used to come here a lot with… with…" He trailed off for a moment. "Narcissa," he finished with a sigh as a deep sadness flooded his eyes and she felt a tiny pang of pity towards him that was gone as fast as it had shown its head.

"So, this dragon," she began, softly.

"Ah. The topic of the night." He quirked a brow at her, took in a deep breath as if he were about to tell her a story and she should buckle up for the ride.

 **A/N: Sorry it's been so long between chapters. I hope this can tide you over for a little while.**

 **Thanks to all** **the new reviews and likes. I can feel the love.**

 **-Aliasmel1**


	5. Chapter 5

Hermione sat awkwardly, perched precariously on the edge of her seat, her discomfort was evident to Lucius, who found it so very highly amusing, although he wouldn't let that be known.

"So, Miss Granger, how has life been treating you of late?" He asked casually, tossing his hair over his shoulder and pressing his back hard against the chair he sat in, clicking at the waiter who walked past, indicating that he wanted some menus, which were placed gently on the table with a bow. He wanted to cut straight to the chase but he assumed it would be better to butter the bitch up than dive headfirst into the topic of the night without some fancy footwork first laid.

Lucius Malfoy prided himself on his charm and charisma, some said he had the ability to charm the pants off anyone, and he wouldn't lie, he was quite good at it. A toss of the hair here, and a well-measured chuckle there and he had most women wanting to slide their dampened panties off and sidle up next to him in bed. Of course, he had been more than loyal and faithful to Narcissa throughout their entire marriage, and he had not laid a hand on a woman since her death, despite the primal male urges clawing within him daily trying to find a way out, for release.

"Is this place Muggle, or is it Wizarding?" She asked gently, ignoring his question in the interim.

He smirked. "Wizarding. Finally, something the amazing Hermione Granger doesn't know." He smiled like the Cheshire cat which only served to anger Hermione more.

"Well I am not exactly a pretentious arsehole who needs to feed their over-inflated ego by coming to restaurants that would cost an average person their entire weekly wage for one meal," She scoffed indignantly, her gaze tore at his own for a moment before she managed to avert her gaze.

She had always thought despite him being a pompous cunt with more issues than a magazine, he was handsome. She could appreciate that much.

Lucius chuckled. "Ah, Miss Granger, when you have the blood running through your veins that I do, only the best will suffice which is why I like to spend money on over the top restaurants and go about my day with no expense to spare."

She snorted. "Wow, how the other half live. Could you be any more conceited?" She rolled her eyes so hard backward, she was sure she caught a glimpse of her own brain.

"I feel you are harboring a terrible amount of animosity towards me." He tapped an index finger absentmindedly on the table as the girl's harsh words cut him to the core. He was different now, more sensitive, things got to him more than before Narcissa had been cruelly murdered and taken from him.

"You think?" She retorted, her long fingers gently grasped for a menu, she ripped it open angrily and began to peruse the menu. If he was paying, she was going to order the most outrageous, ostentatious dish on the menu, after all, he liked to flaunt his wealth around so why not help him do so.

"It's been years. Surely we could all make amends." He quirked a brow in question, knowing full well Hermione Granger would never, ever make amends with him and he was okay with that because she was still a Mudblood and nothing would change that fact. Old habits died hard and he still believed that Mudbloods should not be allowed into their pureblood society.

"I'd rather feed myself to the dragon you so desperately seek than make amends with you," She scoffed, not even looking up from the menu for even a second.

"I'm sure that can be arranged," He muttered under his breath and he knew she heard him because she had cast him the darkest look her had ever seen and for a glimmering moment he had nothing to say.

"Please, may I have a permit to get a dragon?" There was no more buttering her up, he was cutting straight to the point because she had a terrible attitude and a sharp tongue. Weasley should just up and run with the possessions he was afforded just to get away from the crazy bitch.

"Maybe," She muttered under her breath as she searched the menu, half of the food on the menu she had never heard of in her entire life and she wrinkled her nose up at it. If this is what rich people at, she wanted none of it.

"Maybe?" He sounded hopeful as he took and began to look over his menu.

"Don't get your hopes up Mister Malfoy. I tolerate you at best and loathe you at the most, tread carefully if you want to see this through to fruition," her voice soft but full of unbridled hatred.

"Indeed," he mumbled as he signaled for the waiter to come back, he took their order, Hermione opting for the least disgusting thing she could find on the menu, a simple salad.

Lucius had ordered himself the quail and a dry martini, he then looked expectantly to Hermione, silently urging her to order herself a drink.

"Fire whiskey, straight," She bit out a little too enthusiastically.

"My, my. I never picked you as the type to drink the strong stuff."

"I'm not but if I have to spend the next few hours in your company, I need something to calm me down and give me the ability to tolerate you so you don't find my fingers wrapped around your throat as I strangle you to death." Her fingers twitched gently as the thought crossed her mind and she wondered if she would feel total guilt, or sheer elation if she ever got the chance to strangle him.

The corners of his lips twitched for a moment before a dark smirk broke out. "I had no idea you were into that sort of thing but if you are into it…." He trailed off as a disgusted look dusted Hermione's face and she chose to ignore him.

"Tell me, Mister Malfoy, Do you have any qualms to me doing random spot checks to ensure you are treating the dragon in such a manner that I see fit? It's my job to ensure all of the magical creatures I permit people to own are in good health and happy. I check _everyone_ so please don't think I am singling you out." She jutted her chin out defiantly, looking down her nose at the older man.

"No qualms at all, Miss Granger," He stated matter of factly, twirling a fork around and around in his fingers absentmindedly.

"Good." She dropped her hands in her lap primly.

Moments passed in total silence between the two. Hermione unsure what to say and Lucius opted to not talk in case he said something demeaning towards her and blew his chances. So when the waiter returned with their drinks, Hermione threw hers back in one gulp before snatching the bottle off of the waiter.

"Leave this here, I will need it," She choked as the amber liquid slid down her throat and made her cough.

"I'm that unbearable that you need an entire bottle to put up with me? That's harsh." He sipped his drink slowly, eyeing her over the glass.

"You. Life. My husband. I have a lot to deal with, Mister Malfoy." She sighed deeply, rubbing the palms of her hands over her eyes before dropping her gaze to the table.

"How is it going with him? I am assuming you haven't managed to vacate him from your premises and your life?" Fuck. How did this conversation turn into how shitty her life was, now he would have to feign half an interest in her otherwise drab life.

"No. It's complicated. He just won't leave; I am ready to walk away with nothing just to ease the stress in my life. I look terrible, I'm hardly sleeping, not eating and I am always moody."

She looked up as the waiter came and placed the salad in front of her gently which she took to with the ferocity of a rabid dog, she was starving. She had forgotten to eat again all day.

"I can help you, Miss Granger, if you help me." He tentatively tucked into his quail as he watched her intently. The look on her face told him she was almost ready to consider it.

"Thank you for your charity, Mister Malfoy but I will get through this on my own."

"That's right, the strong independent type of woman, I forgot about that."

"Is there something wrong with that?" She waved a fork in his direction.

"Not at all, but women don't have to be strong all the time, there is nothing to be ashamed in with asking for help, Miss Granger." He took a mouthful of the delectable bird on his plate and it melted in his mouth.

"I'm not ashamed and if I needed help I would ask for it… Elsewhere. Now, this dragon…" She trailed off as she tried to change the subject from her, which was incredibly awkward.

"What about it?" He asked casually.

"I need to know where you plan to house it, the diet, the ways and means in which you plan to obtain it and the reason _why_ you need it." She tossed her mane of curls over her shoulder roughly, glaring at him.

"I plan to house the dragon at the Manor, Miss Granger, otherwise the point of owning it would be redundant." He took another bite of food as he watched her sip the whiskey before he continued, "The dragon will be fed fresh, live cattle, easily sourced through the region I reside in."

She had finished eating and was all but glaring at him unintentionally, her cheeks were flushed crimson and she felt incredibly hot thanks to the alcohol coursing around her body, making her giddy.

"It will be coming from a breeder, of course. And I need it for protection. Personal protection." His eyes flicked up from his meal just to catch her gaze with his own awkwardly.

"Protection against?" She waved her hand animatedly, indicating he should elaborate.

"It's personal."

"I see."

Silence.

"You're not going to tell me?" She asked expectantly.

"You're a smart woman, Miss Granger. I am sure you understand the word personal, do you not?"

She blushed. "I do. But I am still intrigued as to why you need a dragon. You are a skilled Wizard with a wand and I am sure you can protect yourself should you see fit."

"If I told you, you wouldn't' believe me anyway, Miss Granger."

She glared at him as her mind ticked over and she knew she would get nowhere if she pressed the issue, not tonight, probably never and it really was none of her business to go into such details, she just liked knowing she had the power to deny Lucius something he desired so and it made her feel powerful, it made her feel as if she had something she could control in her life.

They sat in silence for the rest of the meal, Hermione began to feel a little light headed thanks to the alcohol she drank and by the end of the meal and dessert, she wasn't sure if she would be able to walk out of here, much less apparate home.

Hermione breathed the biggest sigh of relief when Lucius rose to his feet, she couldn't wait to get out of this place, she tried to follow his lead, swaying a little on the spot as she tried to navigate her way out on the heels she wore. His lips twitched at the corners, her dilemma became his amusement.

But being the well brought up gentleman he was, he allowed her to balance on him, holding his forearm as she managed to walk out of there with some semblance of dignity into the now quieter street outside as she blinked rapidly with the brightness of the neon lights burning her retinas.

"I think we need to get you home, Miss Granger."

She swayed on the spot, stumbling over her own feet, falling straight into his arms and broad chest with a soft thud. She rested in his arms for a second, he smelled amazing, like rosewater and parchment and she hated knowing that someone so evil could smell so amazing.

She fit perfectly against his frame and between his arms as if she were meant to reside there, as if she were part of him. A shuddery breath was sucked in when he felt the warmth of her against his chest, the smell of whiskey mingling with her jasmine perfume intoxicated his senses and he had to pull together every ounce of his self-control. He had been years since his skin felt the soft touch of a woman in his embrace and it was much too long since his senses were assaulted by the flowery scent of perfume and his head spun.

And without even a second thought of the repercussions or the fall that would come from such a thing, he reached his hand out and so very gently ran his fingertips across her warm cheek. His fingers twitched at the warm, rose-colored cheek upon which his fingers lay upon, the tingle of desire coursed through him.

She didn't flinch. She didn't hex him, and she didn't vomit.

She just pulled herself to full height. "I can get my self back home," She protested, steadying herself and straitening up, pulling herself from his touch and his embrace.

He snorted. "You can't even stand up let alone apparate home, you will splinch yourself."

"I will not." She stomped a foot on the hard ground below, the sound reverberating off of the cold, cement walls around.

"I will not allow you to kill yourself trying to get home, Miss Granger. Now you come willingly, or I will force you."

She looked up at him, blinking rapidly as if mulling over his words. "Fine, but you don't even know where I live," she protested, reaching out to lay a hand on his forearm that he offered.

"I know a lot more about you than you know, Hermione Granger," He murmured before she felt the horrible sensation of side-along apparition.

 **A/N: I'm so sorry, guys! I swore it was only around two weeks since I updated… Turned out it was over a month! Time flies when you are having fun.**

 **Thanks to the reviews!**

 **-Aliasmel1**


	6. Chapter 6

She tried to keep her distance from him, but the force of apparition drew them closer together. She didn't like this, she didn't like being in such proximity to a Mudblood hater and a Voldemort sympathiser. Granted the war was over, she knew those feelings just didn't vanish overnight if ever.

"I won't bite, Miss Granger," He bit out with a haughty chuckle that made her blood run cold. "Much," he added slyly to the end of his sentence.

She blinked, she would know this house anywhere. Right in her front yard, actually and she had no idea how he knew where he lived, but he did, and that irked her a little.

"Thank you," She whispered softly, pulling herself from his hand that was clamped around her wrist like a vice grip, he soft warm skin almost welcomed beneath his touch. She didn't feel dirty like he imagined, she didn't feel marred of filthy, she just felt like a normal woman. Soft skin, silky hair and she smelled so, so good.

He nodded curtly and she began to walk away briskly from him, but he followed her up the well-trodden garden path to the front door. She stiffened slightly at the proximity in which he followed behind, but she tried not to let it be seen that is visibly annoyed her.

She made it to the door and stopped, confused, her head was racing, and she couldn't think. In her alcohol-induced stupor, she couldn't for the life of her remember how to disarm the wards to her home, something she kept tight, very tight. She didn't trust anyone, even though the war was over, there were still people out there that hated Mud blood's and the prime suspect was standing right behind her at this very moment.

"Well, what are you waiting for?" He asked smugly, his hot breath flittering across the nape of her neck, angering her at he smartass way in which he said it.

She turned to him, anger flashing deep in her eyes and she almost bared her teeth in frustration at him. "I can't remember how to disarm the wards right now."

He quirked a confused brow at her, "You don't know how to get into your own house?"

"I do, well usually. Not after so much whiskey. This is all your fault," She snapped bitterly, narrowing her eyes at him in complete disgust.

He snorted. "I didn't open your mouth and force the liquor down your throat, you have yourself to blame for that one, Weasley."

She looked like she was contemplating how to kill him six different ways and ensure it looked like an accident. He knew she hated having at ties to her husband and here he was, doing it just to get a rise out of her.

"Can't we just alohamora the door lock? You know, as most people would." He honestly had no idea why he was still standing here, he didn't even like her one little bit, yet he was still here.

"You honestly think I wouldn't have wards around my house? You really think I would have it so anyone can traipse up the path and enter my home on their own according? You are a smart man, Mister Malfoy, the fact you would think I would leave my home unprotected is stupid, especially for you."

"Who are you so scared of that you need to ward your house so heavily that you can't even remember how to get it?"

"And your house isn't warded? She chose to ignore his question in the interim." She folded her arms tightly across her chest and pursed her lips waiting for his response.

"I am not the nicest person in the world. I have dabbled in the dark arts, and I have angered some of the darkest wizards of our time. My home is warded for my safety but even so, the strongest wards wouldn't stop most of them, it would take them time, but they could tear them down given half a chance."

She exhaled through her nose in a half snort. "Dabbled in the dark arts? If that is dabbling, I would hate to see you tackle them head on and full time."

"Ok, maybe a little more than dabbled…" He trailed off shifting uncomfortably.

"Your dabbling was second to only Voldemort," She harrumphed matter-of-factly staring him in his cold, despondent grey eyes and she thought perhaps for one fleeting second, she saw a hint of amusement and like dart across them.

"Perhaps… But we aren't here to discuss my atrocities right now. We are here trying to get you into your… humble home…" He trailed off, screwing his face up just a little bit as his eyes raked over the outside of the small cottage.

"Is there something wrong with my home, Mister Malfoy?" She pulled herself up to full height, clearly offended by his words.

"Well… It's no Manor, is it?" He smoothed a hand over his robes, bored.

"What's that supposed to mean?" She almost hissed, taking a step closer to his, fury swelling in her eyes.

"Exactly what I said. There is no need to get angry because I pointed out the obvious." He waved a hand dismissively at her as she backed away a step or two.

"Well, at least I'm not cold and lonely with only a large house to comfort me."

He chuckled. "No, you are cold and lonely in a tiny house," he countered. Her expression softened, he had a valid point.

"It matters not what we have in life, it matters only how we treat other human beings." She jutted her chin defiantly and tossed her brown curls over her shoulder.

"I'd rather cry in a large mansion surrounded by my exquisite fixtures, antique furniture and priceless artworks than in something like… this." He motioned to her house once more.

"This is your problem, you are such a pompous arsehole, who values money over people. This is the reason you are cold and alone."

"And you value people over possessions, and you are equally cold and alone… Misery doesn't discriminate, Weasley."

She shifted uncomfortably on the spot, he had a point. Silence followed for a few moments, she couldn't get in and she knew Ron wasn't home, he went out till the early hours most nights and she couldn't think straight enough to get herself into the house.

"Look. I'm not here to argue. I will just go to Harry's for the night because I can't for the life of me remember how to get in and I am not standing here arguing with you for the rest of the bleeding night."

"At this hour? I'm not that much of a barbarian not to offer a standard woman a bed within my home for the night. Not matter who they are."

"I must politely decline, I would rather sleep here on the doorstep if I am honest."

"Don't be stupid. Are you scared I might try to kill you once I have you in my home?"

"Yes, actually."

"You are a strong, independent woman, you could hold your own against me if you felt the need, however I don't feel like being hauled off to Azkaban this week so you have my word I will not harm you, I could have done so right here on your doorstep and vanished into the night leaving little trace." He shrugged, holding an arm out for her to take so he could apparate them both.

She sighed wearily, linking her arm with his. "If you try anything funny, I will hex you from here to last year," She snapped.

"I'd like to see you try," he mumbled under his breath as they vanished out of sight.

 **A/N: Oh my god, I literally had no idea I hadn't updated this since November last year! Sorry guys. Please accept this chapter as my peace offering for my misdoings.**

 **-Aliasmel1**


	7. Chapter 7

The two of them landed gently just outside of the Manor gates, Hermione blinked once, twice, thrice as she tried to gain her bearings, head spinning wildly from the whiskey she had drunk and bile threatened to rise from her stomach and possible end up all over his leather shoes.

"Thank you, Mister Malfoy." Hermione gave the man a curt nod, lingering a little too long alongside of him before she pulled herself off of him.

The wrought iron Victorian era gates loomed overhead, the eerie silence filled her ears and she spied the Manor lying just a few hundred feet down the long footpath, dwarfing everything that surrounded it.

"I hate your house," She spat out a little too harshly, shivering from a mix of uneasiness and fear that the house instilled upon her. She still had vivid and much too real nightmares of the time Bellatrix had carved Mudblood into her arm for her to feel easy here.

"What did it ever do to you?" He asked in an upward inflection, interested to hear her thoughts on the matter. He began to move forward slowly, the white gravel of the walkway crunching loudly beneath their feet as Hermione tentatively walked with the clumsiness of a newborn foal in her heels.

"I don't hate your house per se, I think it's an architectural marvel, I hate what happened to me in this house." She tried to keep up with his longs strides but fell a few steps behind him.

He stopped abruptly and turned to look at her, Hermione not having enough time to register in her mind that was fogged with alcohol ran straight into his broad chest, air exhaling through her nose abruptly as she hit his chest. For an older man, he didn't have an ounce of fat on his she deduced from the momentary contact that had ensued.

"Steady now, pet." Grasping her arm ever so gently he righted her and steadied her on her feet. She regained her bearings and began walking once more, Lucius trotting slowly beside her should she get off balance once more he could assist her.

The Manor loomed closer, her eyes fixated solely on the front door if she picked a point in the distance and focused, maybe she would walk in a straight line and not into Lucius again.

"I know atrocities happened in here, and I get why you may not see eye to eye with me on many topics. I am not a kind man, a humble man or a gracious man. I haven't been very warm to you over the years, but I have changed, Miss Granger. Please accept my sincerest apologies for the way I have acted. It wasn't easy being under the watchful eye of a maleficent master who controlled every single one of your moves. It wasn't easy by any stretch of the imagination but I, like many, were committed to the cause and in too deep to back out. Backing out would have had my family facing certain death."

"Do you regret it? Being a death eater, I mean." She snigged indignantly still focusing on the door as she ambled along, the door seemed to never get closer.

"My word, yes. I regret the unnecessary bloodshed, the lives lost. I regret pissing away many years of my life as a puppet for Voldemort but most of all I regret my decision to join ranks all those years ago because I lost my beautiful wife." He choked up, coughing to clear his through he looked straight ahead, he didn't want her to see the tears welling in his eyes or the nightmares that plagued him every single night since her death even years later.

"I'm sorry that happened to you, Mister Malfoy," Voice full of sincerity as she finally made it to the front door. It opened to reveal the amazing intricate artworks through to the polished marble floors. The velvet curtains and the handcraft one of a kind furniture. She could appreciate a good house when she saw one.

He held his arm out, allowing her to enter his home first, he followed quickly behind shutting the door. She waited with bated breath, she was here now, was he going to murder her? She was surprised when nothing happened. He just stood blinking at her trying to work out what she was doing.

"You can relax, I told you I wasn't going to do anything to you, Miss Granger. This way." He strode with purpose across the large foyer and off to a room on the left. She walked casually behind him noting that the horrid feeling of death and dark magic had been lifted from the Manor and she could finally appreciate it for what it was and not for what was associated with it.

They entered a large sitting room, two leather armchairs facing the exquisite fireplace, oak panels lined the walls floor to ceiling with one wall covered in bottles of alcohol and Hermione assumed many nights were spent in here being imbibed. An oak desk was pushed hard against the large window that looked out across the grounds.

"My sitting room. Narcissa and I spent many a night in here just talking." A heavy sigh passed his thin lips and Hermione felt a pang of emotion for the man. Never had she seen this side of him, never did she actually think he cared about anyone but himself… How wrong she was.

"I have a confession, Mister Malfoy." She sat down in one of the chairs as Lucius padded over to the wall of liquor, pouring the two of them a generous serving of fire whiskey. He handed it to her and sat opposite her, lazily swirling the whiskey in his glass his mind a million miles away as he watched the amber liquid from a vortex in his glass.

"I always assumed Narcissa was something of a trophy wife and you didn't hold her in much esteem. I always believe she was there to look good hanging off your arm when you needed to show off and it seems I was wrong in my assumptions." She pressed the cup to her lips, the tantalizing amber liquid burnt first her lips, then tongue before it slide the length of her throat burning the entire way down.

His large shoulders shook violently with laughed before he managed to school his features into a more stoic expression. "You and everyone else that knew us, Miss Granger. From the outside looking in that is the way it may have appeared but we both cared for one another very much. It still pains me to this day to know she is gone." He skolled the entire glass of liquid in a nod to drowning his sorrows.

"I'm sorry for pressing on a sore point…" Hermione trailed off sniffing and downing another mouthful of the liquid.

"Don't be silly, it's good to talk about things like this, I usually keep to myself and thus keep all of this pent up to myself. It's nice to have someone else to talk to besides Draco or the elves." He sighed forlornly before rising to his feet and pouring himself another glass.

"You keep to yourself?" She asked in an interested upward inflection.

"I don't exactly have many friends or acquaintances left. Most died or are locked away. I am a social pariah in most circles for my involvement in the war and many shun me because they feel I should be in Azkaban with the rest. No amount of wealth can buy friendship with people have a deep-seated dislike and a burning hate for you." Pinching the bridge of his nose he slumped gently in his seat, almost as if he were defeated.

Silence hung thick in the air, tension so palpable she could feel it tingling against every hair on her body as she studied him silently. A broken man sat before her, one that had all but given up the fight, slowly losing his grip on reality and the lines blurring between who he was and what he was labelled and it showed that he started to believe what everyone said about him.

He sucked in a deep breathe, almost as if he had just brushed off quickly what had happened and composed himself. "And you, Miss Granger. How is life treating you?" He leaned coolly back in his chair reprimanding himself for showing such emotion in front of someone, let alone Hermione bloody Granger.

"Well you know the troubles I am having with Ron." Her voice grew darker and angrier as she began to talk about him. "I just want him to up and leave but he won't. He wants to drag this on and on to create a spectacle and remain relevant in life. He fears to lose the fame that we were afforded after the war. It absolutely kills him inside to know that people are starting to forget him. No longer do people come up to him in Diagon Alley and shake his own and shower him with the praise he almost needs to function." She slammed back the glass hard against her mouth and drained the contents before he took both their glasses and refilled them. Who knew Hermione Granger could be such good company?

"Yes. He always seemed like he would be one to milk it for all it was worth. I guess coming from such a large family and largely ignored as well as living in the shadow of Harry Potter would do that to a person. But he needs to get over himself." He handed her the glass and she took it gratefully.

"Right!" She exclaimed loudly. "It's all about him. If we would go out and people wouldn't recognise him, he would just strike up a conversation with someone and start name dropping. I couldn't stand it and that is part of the reason I want to leave him. I wish he would just go." Dropping her shed on a closed fist she looked angry and defeated.

"I can help you, Miss Granger, if you help me… You give me my permit and I can make him disappear, just like magic. Let me know, I will pull the strings needed and he will be but a distant memory for everyone." A brow quirked in question as she contemplated accepting his offer.

"I don't think we need to make him vanish for good, but if he could vanish from my home, I would be forever grateful. You drive a hard bargain Mister Malfoy, a decent one too… I am still considering your proposal."

A shadow cast in the door saw the two of the snap their heads to the side, Draco strode in. "I heard voic-." He stopped in his track and almost had to pull his jaw from the cold floor below.

"Granger?" Tilting his head to the side in question he had to rub his eyes, surely, he was seeing things.

"Malfoy." She nodded curtly to him raising a brow in an amused fashion.

"What are you… Father what is she doing in our home."

"I invited her Draco, now play nice."

"You really have lost the plot. Does this have anything to do with the crazy idea you have in your mind that Dolohov and Lestrange are still around and out to get us?" He rolled his eyes and snorted mockingly.

"What?" Hermione furrowed her brows together in question and confusion looking from younger to the elder Malfoy.

Draco sighed and sat on the arm of Hermione's chair, she reeled a little but settled. She felt way too at ease in the Manor with the two blood supremacists. "Father things that Dolohov and Lestrange are still alive and out to get us. His beliefs lie solely on some magical piece of parchment he found in Voldemort's belongings. He thinks that each time someone dies, their name is struck-through. So even though Antonin and Rodolphus were killed in the war, father believes that perhaps they aren't as dead as we think."

"Well," Hermione began looking pointedly at Draco, "I honestly don't think either of their bodies was recovered, in the chaos that ensued they were just assumed dead."

"Thank you, Miss Granger." Lucius clapped his hands together loudly in a victorious way.

Draco only shook his head and stood, "The two of you are an insane as one another." He walked from the room shaking his head. He couldn't do this, he couldn't sit in the same room as two equally insane people. And insane his father had become. Inviting Granger into the home as a guest?! What was the world honestly coming to?

"Is that why you want a dragon, for protection?" She asked softly watching him with deep regard.

"Indeed it is, Miss Granger, Indeed it is."

The two chatted for hours more into the early hours of the morning as the dark night sky gave way to a purple early morning sky, the sun began to peek from the horizon to start a new day.

Hermione stretched, legs tucked under her and shoes now lay in a pile at her feet her head tilted to the side as she tried in vain to keep her eyes open and continue the conversation they were now having on the current state of affairs to plague the ministry. Head dipped and eyelids dropped she fell asleep right there, entirely letting her guard down. He smiled, transforming the chair she fell asleep on into a bed and leaving the room.

She was highly intelligent and well-schooled on current affairs not only in the wizarding world but within the world itself. Perhaps Hermione Granger wasn't as bad as he had first thought.

 **A/N: I haven't abandoned this story… I just sometimes get stuck in a rut of only updated one or two frequently and putting others on the back burner. If I am getting closer to the end of a story that one generally gets most of my attention. If I don't update in a timely fashion, I promise it will happen and the story hasn't been forgotten.**

 **Thanks for the reviews! I am really feeling the love.**

 **Aliasmel1**


	8. Chapter 8

Lucius Malfoy didn't know how to feel after his long talk with Hermione. He walked to his bedroom but couldn't get her off his mind the entire time, consumed by thoughts of her and what had just played out. It had been years since he had connected with anyone on the same level that he had connected with Hermione. The last person he ever felt that truly interested in was his dearly departed wife. No. He could never compare his stunning pureblood bride to that of plain Muggle-born Hermione Granger. They were not the same person and they never would. Hermione paled in every aspect compared to Narcissa. He snorted. Maybe that was why he was still alone and single… In his mind, no one was as good as Narcissa.

He had to give it to her though, she was interesting and so very smart. He had actually enjoyed spending the night with her just talking and getting to know her and he hated himself for thinking this, but he might like to do that again sometime.

He had learned a great deal more about Hermione Granger in the past few hours that he had ever really known about her. From her upbringing to what made her tick right through to how miserable and was that Ron Weasley wouldn't leave her life. Instead, he hung on like a parasite and refused to let go and acknowledge defeat. And although Hermione said she didn't want his help to rid her life of the red-headed parasite he thought that perhaps he would help anyway. A pleasant and intelligent woman such as that didn't deserve the misery and condemnation she was currently going through.

Yes. Maybe he would help her out, after all, he wasn't under the hand of a maleficent puppeteer anymore and could live his life how he saw fit, even if it meant helping the bushy-haired little know-it-all Mudblood… Muggle-born, he corrected himself. He didn't have to lower himself anymore to the vulgarity of calling her a Mudblood anymore.

She shook his head, long blonde hair flying wayward with the movement. What had happened to him and where was the real Lucius?

o-o-o-o-o

Eyes heavy with sleep her eyelids slowly fluttered open. The room was blurry as her eyes tried to adjust to the light flooding through the large windows. It had to be at least twelve in the afternoon she deduced by the way the sun hung high in the blue sky. In a panic, she sat up and looked around. Her head throbbed and her mouth dry as if it were packed full of cotton wool. Where in the hell did she fall asleep last night?

Then is all came flooding back. Shit. She was never drinking again. Ever. The light burned at her retinas and her head throbbing, she closed her eyes and lay her head down again where she had been sleeping. Never in a million years would she have ever had dinner with Lucius let alone let him sweet-talk her into coming to his home.

"Hungover?" The deep baritone voice of Lucius hit her ears and she was sure there was a tangle of amusement dancing on his tone. "Happens to the best of us." He mused, drawing the curtains shut on the sitting room so she could at least open her eyes without her head feeling as if it were about to split into two.

He watched her intently. Hair wayward and knotted, last nights mascara giving her the illusion that perhaps she was related more to a panda than any humans, the once pressed clothes she fell asleep in crumpled and creased and her heels sat on the floor; now nothing more than an afterthought. She looked completely and utterly dishevelled.

She writhed in place, the painful head-splitting headache gnawed at her psyche, she wanted to keep sleeping and get a few more hours but she knew that wasn't possible. She wanted to get home and run from here as fast as she could. Or did she? She had really enjoyed her night with Lucius. He was well-spoken, well-mannered and dare she say it… Interesting. Damn. No. She shouldn't be taking a liking to the man. He was vile, evil, crude, cruel, condescending and vindictive…Just a few adjectives she thought that fitted his description well.

"Well. At least you didn't murder me in cold blood." Her voice muffled as she talked into the pillow rather than him.

He sat on the edge of the bed and she rolled towards him just a little as the mattress sunk. "I told you I wouldn't, and I am a man of my word. If I were going to kill you, I would have done so as you slept the entire morning away in my sitting room. It would have been a perfect crime; nobody knows you are here."

She rolled over and glared at him. "You have put a lot of thought into this."

"Indeed. I have the great Hermione Granger in my home in the most vulnerable position someone could be in- slumber, and you didn't think it crossed my mind?" A malicious glint crossed his eye just as he ducked as a pillow came flying towards him.

"I was supposed to be at work today and instead I am here, drinking and then sleeping half the day away. What the hell has become of my life?" She asked mostly to herself as she sat up again, the headache making her feel as if she went twenty rounds with a Hippogriff she perched precariously on the edge of the bed next to Lucius.

"I don't know what has become of my own life let alone anyone else's," Lucius retorted as Hermione's leg brushed softly against his own and his breath caught in his throat. He tried to ignore the fact her leg was resting against his own but not having the touch of a female of late, he found it incredibly hard to tune it out.

"I'm going home," she sighed sadly looking forlornly across the room.

"Are you sure you don't want me to make him disappear from your life and this earth?" Lucius asked hopefully but was only met with a glower.

"Fine, fine." He held his hands up defensively. "Can I at least have my permit to import my dragon?" He asked hopefully once more, still trying to drown out the soft touch of her leg against his own as want and need throbbing through his body. It had been that many years since he had fucked anything, he would gladly shag anything on two or four legs now, a Hippogriff, a Unicorn… a Muggle-born.

"I'm still thinking about that. Now I know the reason you want the dragon I am more inclined to agree with you having it. However, I still worry about the welfare of the beast. I know how heavy handed you can be… for lack of a better word and I worry that the dragon will be punished and dealt a heavy hand."

She fished around for her shoes, breaking contact with his leg and he felt a little crestfallen at that fact. The warmth that was radiating from her to him all but gone.

"Oh, but Miss Granger-," he stopped abruptly as she held a hand up and cut him off quickly.

"I just spent the night in your home, getting drunk with you and I daresay I kind of enjoyed it, we can drop all formalities and you can call me Hermione from here on in."

"Ok, Hermione," Her name rolled off his tongue with the ease of water flowing from a waterfall. "How else do you deal with a dragon besides a heavy hand and a head-on approach? Do you smother it with rainbows and kisses? And with all due respect I have shown you nothing but kindness and respect since you have entered my home, I had more than enough opportunities to slaughter you in cold blood and hide your body where it would never see the light of day again, instead I have shown you that I have changed my ways and perhaps adopted a less brutal approach to things in life. Perhaps you could afford me this one permit, this one chance to show you that I have changed for the better."

She watched him with deep regard. Perhaps he had changed… Fuck it. She didn't want to hand over this permit with such ease. She wanted to make him work for it and earn it but he was making it really hard to hold the disdain she felt towards him when he has turned out to be so genuine of late.

She sighed a mix of anger and frustration. "Come by my office tomorrow and we will see. I have to get home." She tucked her feet in her shoes, hopelessly smoothed her hands over her crumbled shirt and tried to push her knotted and wayward hair out of the way.

He watched her. Never in a million years did he even see a day go by where Narcissa never fully made herself. In Fact, he couldn't even tell you a day he saw her without a hair out of place on her head and here was Hermione Granger with little care or regard for her appearance and he wasn't sure if he liked the confidence about her or if perhaps she should take more care with her appearance. The brazen witch really didn't care what people thought of her and he liked that aspect about her. He liked how genuine and kind she was, and he liked how interesting he found she was.

Fuck. He actually liked Hermione Granger. And it was with sincerity. Never, ever did he think this day would come and he was kind of taken aback that it had taken him this long to work it out. Of all the stories Draco had told him, he had assumed Hermione was some fire breathing hag that had a vendetta against the world, but she was quite the opposite. Perhaps she just had a short fuse of assholery which no doubt Draco had riled her up during their school years.

He breathed. He only needed his permit and that was it. He could go back to his life of solitude and push down all thoughts good or bad of Hermione Granger. He would never have to see her again save for when she dropped in to check on the Dragon every now and then.

Hermione began to walk out of the sitting room, snapping Lucius's attention back to her. "I'm going," she called out over her shoulder, the clacking of her heels on the marble floor echoed throughout the foyer just like Narcissa's used to do.

"Let me walk you to the gates, Hermione," He called out and took a few large strides to catch up with her. The least he could do was extended his chivalry. After all, he didn't have that dragon yet.

 **A/N: Wow. Thank you, everyone! I can't thank you enough for your words of encouragement and reviews. This is my first story with this pairing, and I am trying so hard to do them justice. I'm more of a Sev fan so it's hard for me to write Lucius. Let me know how I am going.**

 **I had a few reviews saying if I wanted the relationship to progress, I would have to stop Lucius calling Hermione a Mudblood, which is fine in theory but not in practice. When I write Lucius the phrase Mudblood just wants to spill forth from my fingers and incite hatred so changing my train of thought is incredibly hard. I just can't see him changing his ways, even after the war but for intents and purposes of this story, I feel I had to let the hate between them diminish.**

 **-Aliasmel1**


	9. Chapter 9

"Hermione," Lucius greeted her as he leaned coolly on one elbow on her desk, watching her move the quill with precision and finesse. She looked tired, angry or upset, perhaps a mix of all three.

"Lucius," she greeted back, hardly even looking up, his name almost like acid on her tongue, to greet him without formalities was hard because she knew they had surpassed acquaintances and moved into the realm of early friendship and she honestly didn't know how to feel about that. She still harboured sour thoughts and held a grudge for all the harsh words that fell from his lips over the years when he was nothing but rude and arrogant towards her but at the same time, she felt everyone deserved redemption and he really was trying hard. Perhaps losing Narcissa was the best thing to ever happen to him?

"Here. Take it. You won," She sighed sadly dropping a slip of parchment on the desk for him carelessly. The fight in her was all but extinguished.

He fingered it gently, spinning it around so he could peruse the writing better. Well, well, well. She gave him the permit for the dragon he so deeply desired and he didn't know whether to thank her, shake her hand or kiss her. A totally platonic kiss, of course. To show his appreciation.

"Thank you, Hermione," Her name rolled forth off his tongue with ease as if it were covered in silk. "But I was unaware we were competing against one another for victory."

"No problems." She waved a dismissive hand not even looking up at him as she continued to pilot quill over the parchment with speed. "In my head, there was a contest and I was going to hold out on you because you were such a terrible person. But it seems perhaps I was wrong so decided to no longer hold that grudge." She sighed wearily; shoulders slumped.

"Something wrong?" His interest piqued and he felt that he needed to know why she was being so incredibly short with him. Did he do something?

Sighing again she placed the quill down on the desk and looked at him. It was at that moment he could see puffy red eyes framed by dark bags. She had been crying. A lot by the look of it. Sadness swam in the depths of her chocolate orbs.

She eyed him sideways, cautiously. Not everyone who smiled at you was your friend. Right now, though, he was probably one of the only people to show a genuine interest in what was troubling her, and she appreciated that.

"I've just had enough." She shrugged harshly, wiping the palms of her hands over her eyes roughly looking away from him just so.

He noticed a single stray tear glitter in the light of the room and slowly slide down her cheek. "Enough of?" He asked, indicating for her to elaborate a little more on the subject.

"The whole thing with Ron. It's worn me down more so over the last few days than any other time before. Can you believe he had the hide to interrogate me because I didn't come home?! Like he owns me!" She slammed a fist on the desk angrily, teeth gritted so hard she thought she might break one.

"Rude," Lucius snorted with disdain, leaning further on the desk. This was the most drama he had been privy to in a long time and he quite enjoyed it after years of solitude locked up mourning the loss of his dearly departed wife and if he could be involved in any way, he would.

"Again. You did something for me, now allow me to do something for you… A reward. Of course, I know you are much too proud to accept help when help is offered." He plucked the permit off the desk and folded it intricately before popping it into his breast coat pocked safely. He would have to take a trip to Romania in the next few days to select the perfect dragon to purchase.

"Thank you but I can manage on my own." She smiled meekly while swiping a few stray tears from her cheeks and sniffing sadly.

"Yes. Because that has worked this far, Hermione." Lucius rolled his eyes sarcastically. The vivacious little know-it-all cow always was too proud to accept help when help was needed and perhaps if she knew when the hand of help was being extended towards her for the better, she wouldn't still be in this situation.

"Is there anything else you needed?" Hermione snapped a little too angrily.

"No, I think that is all." He tapped the pocket in which he had placed the permit. "If you don't want to accept my help in this situation then I can't very well force you to take it. However, if you ever need the favour, it stands, as is a sympathetic ear and a bottle of fire whiskey or a glass of elf-mead wine should you need it. You know where I reside, and my door is always open." He turned on his heel and strode away with purpose, leaving Hermione even more confused and unsure than she had been since Lucius had graced her with his presence requesting the dragon in the first place.

Did he just give her an open invitation to show up to his house whenever she felt like it? She didn't know how to feel about that. She still didn't know if she could trust him, years and years of wrongdoings would have anyone a little apprehensive, especially when it seemed like someone had so easily turned over a leaf. Could someone as evil and calculating as that really turn their life around and re-birth themselves as a practically new person? She was sceptical but from the outside looking it, it sure seemed he was trying for redemption and forgiveness for all the wrong-doings he had done.

o-o-o-o-o

Shit. Damn. Why did she do this to herself? Her feet leading the way down the smooth, white pebbled path of Malfoy Manor. Why him? Why did she feel the need to do this? Fuck. Her heart hammed against her chest as he feet trotted in the direction of his large front door. Was it too late to turn and run? Would he know she was here? Maybe he had wards that alerted him when someone crossed the boundary. Actually, did he have wards? If he did, how did she get through them so easily, was he expecting her?

Now her mind ran even faster than it did she decided to apparate here after work. She didn't want his help; she just needed a sympathetic ear and a proverbial shoulder to cry on. She didn't have many friends and she could hardly go to Ginny or Harry (for obvious reasons) and whine to them about their brother and best friend. She wasn't looking for anything more than friendship and someone to lend an ear and what perfect person that Lucius. He kept to himself nowadays and wasn't out to impress anyone with any information divulged to him and she didn't find him at all one bit attractive. She just wanted a friend. Ok, she lied a little bit, he did have some appeal, he was easy on the eye. So very easy on the eye. Ok… So, he was attractive, but she would keep that little titbit of information buried deep inside of her under lock and key.

Her head and heart battled as she walked the familiar path to the front door. She was here. There was no point turning back now. Gently she reached a fist to the door and wrapped on the large wooden door loudly. Heart hammered in her chest as time seemed to tick by at a glacial pace. He wasn't going to answer, it surely had been a ploy to get her here to humiliate her.

The door ever so slowly opened, Lucius only quirked a brow as he saw who was at the door.  
"Finally come to your senses and want to accept my help?"

"No. I just couldn't bear the thought of going straight home from work to sit in a house with him. The walls feel as if they are going to press against my chest and push all the air out when he is there. The whole mood of the house changes to just a feeling of misery and anger and I hate it. I used to be happy in my own home, now, not so much."

He stepped back to allow her in, taking her coat she had travelled in and hung it on the coat hook by the door. "Drink?" He asked as he led the way to his sitting room where they had spent time not all the long ago.

"Oh god, yes. I need copious amounts to keep me sane right now." She flopped down on the leather armchair without any grace what so ever and he could only roll his eyes. Narcissa would have never sat in such an undignified, un-ladylike manner.

"Can I interest you in some elf mead? Narcissa had half a cellar of the stuff, almost addicted she was, and no one here drinks it. The elves had popped a few corks and tried it but after Bosworth ended up spello-taped to the highest branch in the tree outside, he has forbidden any of the others from drinking again.

Hermione had to stifle a chuckle. "Elves gone bad?"

"So, so bad," He tutted, pouring the wine into the largest glass he had and handed it to her.

She pressed the cup to her lips and downed half the contents in almost one sip. "I can see why she was partial to this, it's lovely."

"That's what she said but it just tastes like cheap swill to me honestly." He poured himself a hefty serving of fire whiskey and he noted how freely the conversation flowed between them and how at ease he felt in her company. Fuck. No. Why was he enjoying her company? At first, he was just being nice to her so he increased his chances of a permit… but now he had no literal reason to fraternize with her and here they were.

She kicked her shoes off, pulled her legs up onto the chair and sat crossed legged, wine in one hand, the other resting gently in her lap. Narcissa would never have sat like that, she was too much of a lady to be seen in such a position, especially around a male. He shook his head, he had to stop comparing Hermione with Narcissa because he had no intentions of shacking up with Hermione Granger and making her his wife. He had no intention of doing anything more than drinking with her and having the company and he certainly had no intentions of bedding the woman.

"I honestly don't even know why I came here. You don't deserve to listen to me ramble on about how shitty my life is but Ginny and Harry are obviously very partial to Ron so I can't go to them with my issues. They think I should just put up with him and make the marriage work. But I just don't see the appeal anymore. I mean yes, once I loved him but when you live with somebody for years upon years you get to know them with such an intimacy it is scary. You see what makes them tick and what makes them snap and Ron isn't the person I want to be with. He just isn't what I want in a husband. He isn't a bad person, please don't get me wrong but our personalities clash and we don't gel well together." She tapped a long talon against the stem of the wineglass, the clinking ringing out in the small room as she thought to herself for a few moments.

"Do you hate him?" Lucius asked with interest, taking a sip of his own drink.

"Hate is a strong word, Lucius. I don't hate him; I don't hate many people. I hate the fact we just don't get along like we used to. And I hate the pig-headed and stubborn part of him that won't get out of my house and leave me to my peace and tranquillity I so desperately desire. I hate the part of him that has to be antagonistic towards me." She took a large sip of wine again, staring at the wall opposite her as if in deep thought. "So no, I don't hate him. I just hate the asshole in him. And what about you, who do you hate?"

"I hate Voldemort with every fibre of my being. For what he did to my life and my wife. I hate him with the ferocity of the fiery pits of hell, where hopefully he is burning for eternity."

"Do you hate me?" She asked with interest, taking another sip.

"If I hated you, you wouldn't be sitting here talking to me, Hermione. I have never hated you I just hated what you were, a muggle born, and I was led to believe that your kind was tearing the magic from people like me and killing us. But I can see now who the real villain was, and it wasn't you. In the grand scheme of things, he incited a lot of hate in us all, he destroyed lives and families. He tore family units apart like they were nothing all for his perception of perfection. I was terrible to you so it is you who should hate me."

The silence was resounding as they both mulled over what had just been said. Of course, Hermione didn't hate him.

"I don't hate you." She shrugged. "I just hated what you stood for. What you believed in and I am sorry that you lost your wife who it is apparent you adored and loved with every inch of your heart." She smiled sadly.

More silence.  
The words hung heavy in the room until Lucius plucked a stack of photos off the small table beside him trying to lift the mood.

"Charlie Weasley sent me these. Photos of the horntails he currently has." He waved the stack of photos in the air and Hermione walked over to his chair and plopped down on the arm of it. Wine glass lazily held in her grip she grasped the photos with her spare hand, long finger gently brushing past his own causing him to stiffen ever so slightly as she fanned the photos open. Crossing her legs toes brushed lazily against his cotton clad calf muscle and he sucked a sharp breath through his mouth in response. The floral scent of her perfume assaulted his senses and he had to bite his tongue to stop him shoving it down her throat. The jasmine undertones mixed with lavender and strawberry was akin to the scent Narcissa wore and was partial to.

"This one is cute." Hermione indicated her head towards a small dragon blowing fire, he was only tiny maybe six months old

"Dragons are not cute." Lucius bit out through gritted teeth trying to concentrate on what was at hand and not where he wanted to put his actual hands right now.

"But this one looks like it is ready to go ten rounds in a fight with five other dragons and come out the victor." Hermione indicated to a rather large, rather aggressive looking dragon.

"That's the one I was thinking of."

"But it isn't cute," Hermione protested.

"I'm not looking for the cute factor, I am looking for the ferocity factor, something that could tear an intruder limb from limb and not even leave a hair behind."

"Besides, if you get a baby it is easier to train." Hermione downed the rest of the liquid in her glass handing the photos back to Lucius who made a point of accidentally on purpose touching her fingers with his own before setting them back on the table.

"Mmmm," He hummed against the glass that he had pressed to his lips again while his mind wandered a million miles away wondering what it would be like to have Hermione Granger pressed beneath him as he had his way with her. Fuck. No. He shook his head gently pushing that thought right from his mind. She was young enough to be his daughter and yet the wicked thoughts of depravity danced in his mind as he toes gently stroked his leg and he almost though the little vixen was very much aware of what she was doing to him right now, and she enjoyed it very, very much.

 **A/N: Just passing through with another chapter. Let me know how you all enjoy it and if you think perhaps, they are progressing a little too fast in their relationship.**

 **-Aliasmel1**


	10. Chapter 10

Lucius had been nothing short of a gentleman that night despite the burning desire to pick her up, throw her on his bed and fuck her all night long. She had left at around one a.m. and he admitted he was a little crestfallen that she had not opted to stay the night. He had deduced from the time spent with her that her flirting game was strong, and she liked seeing him squirm. The rest of the night she had perched next to him on the arm of his chair and continued to rub his leg with her foot, or accidentally on purpose brush her fingers across his cheek. She knew she was making him squirm, but he wasn't going to give in, not yet, anyway.

So, he had concluded that he would take her to Romania with him and see just how much self-control he had. If she wanted him, she could make the first move, it didn't bother him if he had to wait a few more weeks for even as much as a kiss, it had been this long since he had felt the tender touch of a woman so what was a little extra waiting?

"I'm going away for a few days, Draco." Lucius peered over the top of the Daily Prophet at breakfast, watching as his son tore a piece at a piece of toast with his teeth.

"Where?" Draco asked with a mouthful of food and Lucius could only roll his eyes. You give them the best upbringing and they still act like troglodytes.

"Romania."

"Really? You are still on this dragon thing? Let me guess, Granger actually granted you the permit needed to acquire one?"

"Actually, yes." Lucius shut the paper, folded it in half and placed it on the table before him.

"That's right. I forgot she is as mental as you are. You both seem like a great match." Draco snorted, rolling his eyes so far back in his head he thought he caught a glimpse of his own brain.

"What's that supposed to me?" Lucius drummed his fingers on the mahogany table gently waiting for Draco's reply.

"That you are her would be perfect for one another. Was she here again the other night? I heard a lot of laughing coming from your sitting room. I didn't know you had the ability to converse with others in such a way they found you comical."

"You think?" Lucius asked in an upward inflection almost hopefully at Draco's suggestion that they were perfect for one another, tilting his head to the side in question.

"How times have changed. You hated her the entire time you have known her. You fought for the right to wipe her kind out from our world and then here you are taking her to dinner, bringing her back here and practically undressing her with your bloody eyes. I saw you ogling her the other night. Short of tearing her clothes off and shoving your tongue down her throat, you couldn't make it anymore obvious you desire her."

Lucius snorted and waved a dismissive hand. "I at no stage undressed her with my eyes. And I only took her to dinner to discuss my proposition for a permit, you wretched child."

"Bull shit." Draco slammed his fists on the table causing a dish of butter to bounce off and hit the ground, breaking. "It's been that long since you played hide the sausage with anyone that even Granger is starting to appeal to you. Tragic." Draco tutted his tongue and shook his head while shooting his father a mock sympathetic look.

"I would fuck one of the house elves because even they are looking appealing right now. And even if she was looking good to me, which she isn't may I add, it wouldn't be any of your business what I did with her. And for the record, I find her interesting and intelligent and that is all."

"One of the female ones I am assuming?" Draco's mind lingered a little too long on the fact, his father would have his way with one of the house elves.

"Honestly, right now I wouldn't care. Male, female, a mix of both." Lucius shrugged.

Draco mock gagged. His father really had lost the plot. "And besides Granger is young enough to be your daughter. She could be my bloody wife."

"Your wife? That's some assumption there, Draco. Or is it false hope?" He raised a brow almost into his hairline, the tapping on the table ceased and he looked accusatory at his son.

"Don't turn this around on me old man to take the focus off your infatuation with her." Draco huffed.

"You're the one who said she could be your wife so there must be some deep-seated desire there in the back of your mind." Lucius sat up, straightening his robes as he did so.

"I'm thinking of marrying Astoria, why would I even think about marrying dreary old Hermione Granger?"

"Dreary? I'd say Astoria was the dreary one. I'd rather watch a hippogriff pick a carcass clean than engaging in a mind-numbing conversation with her. She may be easy on the eyes but god, Draco, you could have picked someone with a personality." There he had finally got that off his chest. He had been harbouring that opinion for years too long.

"So you are giving me your blessing to marry Granger? Because if I had had known that I would have been up for the thrill of the chase," Draco asked, confusion etched into every inch of his face. His father had lost it. "You said I had to marry a Pure Blood and I am going to do that and now all of a sudden you turn this whole thing around on me and make out like I am the one that likes Granger and I should marry her."

"Marry whoever you want. I didn't even know you liked her" Lucius shrugged, picking up the paper again and feigning a fake interest in the front page.

"So you want me to marry Granger now? Because if that is what you want, I can live with that. I have always liked Granger to some degree. I reckon there was pent up sexual desire between us at Hogwarts, I mean why else would she punch me square in the nose if she didn't like me?"

"Do what you want," He snapped viciously at his son who had obviously hit a raw nerve.

"Well, why fucking snap at me telling me to do what I want when you clearly don't want me to do it. It's about time I bundled you up and dropped you on the doorstep of an old-wizards home. But first stop is the brothel because no sex has sent you stark raving mad. You are making no sense. You tell me to marry Granger and then you are like a bear with a sore head when I said I did like her to a degree," Draco cried, exasperated.

"It's a shame I can't drop you at the door of an orphanage like I should have the day you were born," Lucius's tone full of mock bitterness.

"What, and have the Malfoy line and fortune die with you?" Draco mocked fake hurt, covering his heart with his hand. "So, then you are Granger could shack up and produce a half-blood heir." Draco tutted, clicking his tongue hard. "Honestly, where did you pureblood ideologies vanish to?"

"Have her." He shrugged sourly looking at the paper but eyes not even focusing on the text. Fuck. Shit. Did he really like Hermione? Why was he so bothered by Draco liking her?

"Fine. I will. Now on a totally unrelated topic, I am off to visit a friend…" Draco trailed off, eyes glinting with malicious as his father looked up to see the mischievous glint in his eye.

"I too am off to see a friend before I go to Romania for a few days…" Lucius got to his feet and casually and nonchalantly began to make his way towards the door of the dining room, casting a look after his shoulder every few steps to see if Draco were following behind.

Draco got to his feet and began sprinting, pushing past his father with glee as he made his way to the front gates to apparate. Lucius followed suit hot on his sons' heels shooting off harmless hexes every few steps to hinder the race to the gates. He knew one thing about running to the gates, he was much more unfit, older and out of shape that he had previously realised. Maybe he was too old to keep up with a young, vivacious witch, unlike in his younger days when he had three on the go at once.

He finally caught up to Draco and pushed him hard, sending sidestepping and losing a few feet on his father. Draco pulled himself back on the path and easily caught Lucius and sprinted past him like he was standing still. Draco darted out of the gates and stood there; arms folded tight across his chest looking very much like the cat that got the canary.

"Well. That just proved to me you do like Granger or you wouldn't have fucking nearly killed yourself to beat me here. Granger. Of all the woman in the world, you fancy Granger. The one anyone would least expect. She's a mess now, an absolute train wreck. Mother was immaculately kept, had grace and poise about her. Granger is totally the opposite, I swear she doesn't even brush her hair most days, she a vast change to what you are used to."

"You literally just played me and made me exert myself to race you here just so you could try to prove a point that I liked Hermione Granger? I like her as a friend thank you very much Draco. I'm hardly going to fall head over heels and bed the bloody woman! You would be a train wreck too if your husband wouldn't move out and refused to sign the divorce papers."

"Since when did you care about someone's mental state? When did you ever show an ounce of empathy to anyone ever? Fuck, I don't think you have shown a scrap of it towards me! You do like her."

"I do not. I am just trying out this empathy thing. Perhaps you could try it one day." Lucius shrugged. "Was I really that much of an asshole as a father?" He asked in ghostly whisper realising perhaps he could have been a little nicer to Draco when he was younger.

"The biggest," Draco confessed, running a shaky hand through his blond hair. "This here, right now, you chasing me up the driveway is probably the most fun we have ever had together as father and son..." Draco trailed off sadly.

"I'm sorry," Lucius whispered softly as he saw the raw hurt in his sons' eyes. He had no idea he was such a prick to him.

"It's ok." Draco shrugged. "They were horrible times; you were just bringing me up in the same way your father brought you up. I get it, I understand."

How did they go from Hermione Granger to the fact he was nothing short of a cunt to Draco during his childhood?

"I'm sorry…I-" Lucius began but was cut off by Draco holding a hand up.

"What's done is done. Now, go do what you must do and don't do anything I wouldn't do…"

Draco watched as his father apparated from the apparition point outside of their home, smiling. Perhaps finding comfort and friendship with Hermione Granger would help his father for the better.

o-o-o-o-o-o

Lucius blinked into the early morning Saturday sun, landing gracefully outside of Hermione's home, hoping nobody was around to see her appearing from thin air. He was safe. But then again, if someone went up to their friend and said they saw a man appear out of thin air in the middle of a street, it wouldn't hold much merit.

Slowly ambling up the path he admired the quaint but well-kept garden that spanned either side of the stepping stone path he walked up.

He reached the door, took in a deep breath and knocked on it softly. This was probably a stupid idea given Ronald Weasley would be here… but that was half of what he had planned if he were being honest. If Hermione wasn't going to accept the help he so graciously offered, he would go about doing it in such a way that it looked as if Ron had just left on his own accord. It was worth a try.

It wasn't long before the door slowly creaked open and he was looking into the shocked face of Ronald Weasley who went fumbling through his pockets for his wand and trained it on Lucius who only rolled his eyes in turn and pushed past.

"Don't be stupid. I'm here for Hermione," Lucius barked standing in the small hall of Hermione's house. It was tiny, well, compared to the vast square footage he was afforded at his home.

Ron looked as if he had just been punched square in the face, mouth agape at first and then opening and closing like a goldfish as he tried to work out the words in his head. "H… Hermione?" He managed to choke out.

"Yes, Hermione. Now let's think together I know how hard it must be for you function most days, let alone breathe. Hermione, the woman you married, where is she," He spoke slowly and in the most condescending tone he could muster up. He wasn't taking any shit from a Weasley. Never had, never would.

"Lucius?" Hermione screeched from behind him, surprise thick in her voice. What was he doing here?

Lucius turned on his heel and looked her up and down, squinting an eye and raising a brow. She had a pair of grey track pants on, a white t-shirt and her hair up in a messy bun, a few stray ringlets had escaped the hair elastic and were framing her face. "Get dressed. You're coming to Romania with me, I need help picking out a dragon," He declared while shooting Ron a smirk.

"I am dressed," Hermione argued, gesturing to her outfit with an open palm.

"Really? They aren't bedclothes? Are you… are you sure?" Confusion etched in his face. Did people actually wear that as regular clothing? He was having trouble believing that.

"Yes, Really. We aren't all into tailored suits and cloaks handcrafted by the finest tailors in the world, Lucius," Hermione bit, sarcastically.

"Wait. Wait a minute," Ron interjected waving a hand so they would both look at him. "Why is Lucius Malfoy in my house and why are you both talking to one another as if you are friends?"

"It's my house," Hermione screeched.

"It's her house," Lucius stated in unison with Hermione.

"Well, why is he here?" Ron asked Hermione, his eyes as fiery as the red hair that sprouted from his head.

"Lucius is a… Friend. I granted him a permit and wants me to go to Romania unannounced it seems." She sighed wearily. She didn't really feel like going but it was better than being stuck in his house with Ron all weekend. "I'm going to get dressed." She shot Lucius a pointed look, "Seeing as my attire isn't up to his royal Highnesses standards. Play nice." She rolled her eyes and walked away leaving the two men standing in the hall of the house, the tension so thick between them in was palpable.

"Mind telling me what is going on between you and Hermione?" Ron tightened his jaw and gritted his teeth. Arms folded over his broad chest and he pulled himself up to his full height as his eyes flashed dangerously.

Lucius looked around to ensure Hermione wasn't lurking just out of sight. Lightning fast he grabbed Ron by his shirt and pulled him close.

"Here is what is going on you shit stain on society." Lucius's eyes flashed with fury and he was sure Ron was about to piss himself. "I am taking Hermione for the weekend, purely as friends believe it or not and when we get back, you will be gone back to whatever cesspool you clawed your way from. Hermione didn't want you to vanish from the face of the earth, she was quite happy for you to just leave her life, but I don't care if you clock out or not. So it seems you have two choices, leave on your own accord or leave forcibly," Gritted teeth spoke words so soft yet with venom Ron shook just a tiny bit, his face whitened and his knees went weak.

Footsteps gently walking down the stairs so Lucius release Ron, straighten his own robes, throw his shoulders back and compose himself.

"All good?" Hermione asked suspiciously.

"Fine. Fine, we were just talking about the weather, weren't we?" Lucius side-eyed Ron who only nodded in agreement.

"The weather. Really?" Hermione didn't believe a word he was saying but wasn't going to argue. "Now, is this ok?" She asked Lucius apprehensively. She had at least changed into a pair of decent jeans and a nicely pressed shirt.

"Yes, that is fine."

"Thanks, Dad." She mocked, grinning as Ron looked as if he was about to vomit from fear and disgust.

"Now. Let's go. Lucius pulled out a large golden ring from his pocket, holding it in the palm of his hand. "Portkey." He indicated towards his palm with his head.

"An international Portkey, am I to assume it was obtained legally through all ministry avenues."

"Absolutely not." He grinned wickedly.

"I should have known." Hermione rolled her eyes, smiling as she placed her hand on the ring, making a point to touch his smooth palm gently with her fingers.

Ron watched at the two of them vanished. Slumping against the wall he had to force the vomit to stay down. He didn't know what to do. Take the easy route and leave on his own or see if Lucius Malfoy's bite was really as bad as his bark.  
 **  
A/N: Here you all go. Another chapter! I am loving writing this story at the moment! The ideas are just flying around my head at a million miles an hour and I pretty much have the rest plotted out in my head.**

 **Thank you to all my loyal readers for reviewing as usual. I appreciate it more than you would know!**

 **-Aliasmel1**


	11. Chapter 11

Hermione blinked rapidly; very aware she was still holding onto Lucius's hand as the Romanian sun assaulted her retinas with vigour. The fresh, crisp air filling her lungs.

The rolling green hills extended for as far as she could see, and from what she could tell, they were fairly high up in the mountains and very, very far away from civilisation. She recoiled her hand from his slowly before jumping high in the air when a voice sounded from behind the two of them.

"Hermione?" An all too familiar voice hit her ears and she groaned inaudibly. Of course, Charlie. She could have smacked herself over the head for not realising he would be here. Who bloody else would be here? She thought to herself.

"Charlie!" She threw on an almost fake smile and a happy front, turning to face him, beaming as he came bounding over and hugged her.

"How's my favourite sister in law?" He asked animatedly.

Lucius snorted loudly, and Hermione narrowed her eyes at him which only amused him further.

"Ron hasn't told you?" Her face dropped fast.

"Oh, he told me, but I refuse to believe it."

"So does he." Hermione sighed angrily.

"Not for long," Lucius whispered under his breath.

"What?" They both asked in unison, both glaring at him with question in their eyes.

"I said probably for too long." Nice save, he thought to himself.

"It's so great to see you, Hermione. I didn't know you were coming, Ron never mentioned it."

"Ron didn't know I was coming, up until fifteen minutes ago, I didn't even know but Lucius required my help to pick the perfect dragon."

Charlie looked from Hermione to Lucius, perplexed. "Is… Is there something going on…" He trailed off, confused. "You aren't under the imperius curse, are you?" His eyes darted from Hermione to Lucius and back again. There was no way Hermione Granger, Muggle-born would be caught dead hanging around with Lucius Malfoy, Muggle-born hater.

"Merlin, no." Hermione waved a dismissive hand. She wouldn't admit she was here because she found the man… Charming. Interesting. Charismatic. Handsome. Shit, no. No. She didn't think any of that. She shook her head shaking the thoughts from her head. This was strictly business and she only tolerated the man, no more, no less.

"Are you going to take me to see the dragons, or are we going to stand here pondering if I have placed Hermione under a very illegal and very unnecessary curse?" He snapped out harshly. How dare he assume he had Hermione under an unforgivable. He happened to be able to charm her all on his own thank you very much, the only magic involved was his winning personality, he thought to himself.

Charlie physically bit his tongue hard, he wanted to say something but he knew the wealth of a Malfoy knew no bounds and didn't want to lose a sale, the sale of dragons were few and far between but when a sale went through, it was a princely sum of money, all that went back into the conservation and care of the breeding and rescue dragons they had at the current time.

The trio walked down a well-trodden pathway that Charlie had obviously taken many a trip down. Silently padding out the way in the lead, Hermione and Lucius walking in silence beside one another lagging just so. They stepped in unison, deviated from their path every few steps, finding themselves accidentally brushing the others arm with soft skin, both eyeing the other with soft regard.

Hermione looked straight ahead, focusing on the back on the flaming red hair of Charlie, trying with all her might to stop herself deliberately tripping into Lucius to feel his taut frame against her own body. Shit. No. No. She mentally scolded herself. She didn't like him, and she certainly didn't crave his touch or want to inhale his woody scent that mingled ever so softly on his skin. Ok, she totally wanted all of those things, but she wasn't going to throw herself at the man. It wasn't so long ago that he was trying to do her in and rid her kind from the face of the earth.

She was brought out of her revere when Charlie stopped before them abruptly, almost running up the back of him, Lucius grasped her arm with his hand and stopped her colliding with Charlie. She shuddered slightly at his touch.

"And here we are." Charlie gestured to an empty field, void of any life.

Hermione was confused. "Where… Where are they?" She asked. Confusion etched into every line of her face as she scanned the horizon.

"Wait," Charlie whispered before letting out a shrill whistle.

Silence.

Nothing happened.

Hermione went to open her mouth to protest before a beating of wings from the sky above had her jaw almost on the ground. Four dragons landed obediently before Charlie, looking at him with soft regard in their eye. Horntails this obedient was almost unheard of. Either Charlie was very, very brave, or very, very stupid to get close enough to form a bond of such magnitude with not one but four dragons.

Hermione backed up in fear, right into the broad chest of Lucius who without thinking placed a hand gently on her hip, pulling her in a little closer, almost as a show of protection.

She didn't pull from his touch, instead, she stood stock still in place watching with bated breath as Charlie walked towards the dragons, almost cooing to them. He was mad, she thought to herself.

Charlie turned to look at the two, a brow snapped high into his hairline as he saw the brief show of closeness between the two.

"I thought you said nothing was going in," He snapped. "You are still married to my brother and you want to blatantly flaunt your relationship with him." Charlie inclined his head towards Lucius. "Of all the people in the entire world, you had to choose him to commit infidelity with. The one who wanted you dead!" He threw his hands up in frustrations and anger.

Hermione broke from Lucius's touch. "Nothing is going on between us, Charlie, and even if there were, which there is not, it wouldn't be any of your business what so bloody ever." She took a few steps towards him and poked him hard in the chest.

"It is my business," he snapped back with viciousness. "You are married to MY brother. And you have the hide to come here and flaunt your obvious relationship with a low-life, mouth breathing, knuckle dragging troglodyte like him!"

Lucius looked highly offended, whipping his wand from his cane with such speed, he almost flung the whole thing across the field.

"Charlie." Hermione tried to reason, gently placing a hand on his shoulder which he shook off forcefully. "I haven't wanted anything to do with Ron for months. We haven't shared the same bed in a year or more and there is no saving the relationship. Even if I were in a relationship with Lucius, which I am not, it wouldn't be any of your damn business." She snorted, jutting her chin out defiantly.

She turned to Lucius who had a rage simmering just in the shallow depths of his grey eyes. "Lucius. Just pick a dragon and let's get out of here. It's not worth it." She smiled meekly, stepping towards him she pushed his wand hand down.

He nodded to her in agreeance. "You are quite right. It's not worth going to Azkaban over a piss-poor excuse for a wizard. The whole family is a joke." He raised a brow as if willing Charlie to attack him. He didn't.

"What about the cute little one?" Hermione cooed over a small horntail that would have been lucky to come up to her knee, trying to distract him from killing Charlie right there on the spot.

Lucius rolled his eyes. "I want something with presences, something that could attack on a whim, devour a whole body in seconds." His eyes glinted with a hint of malicious as his eyes darted back to a seething Charlie.

"But it's so cute," Hermione protested.

"If you want something cute, I will buy you a Unicorn, or a Hippogriff, a Niffler, something that won't have a desire to swallow you whole when it's older."

"If there is nothing going on between you two, why offer to buy her a unicorn?" Charlie snapped, arms folded and body rigid.

"You've never bought a friend a unicorn. Tragic. When you have my wealth, what is a unicorn between friends?"

"You know you are coming across as nothing more than vain and narcissistic!" Charlie yelled at the top of his voice, frustrated and angry. Fingering his own wand in his pocket as he thought about whipping it out and shooting a stray killing curse his way.

"You've only just worked that out now?" Lucius questioned with a surprised upward inflection.

Charlie was seething. This man was nothing short of rude and he had had enough. Add into the mix that his brother's wife was being unfaithful, he was seeing red.

"I'll take the biggest one, be a lamb and have it delivered to my manor with haste," His voice was almost condescending, which only riled Charlie up more.

"I shouldn't be selling such a vile, foul excuse of a human such as yourself a dragon, but I am doing so in hope that you meet an unfortunate end at the behest of the poor creature that you will call your own."

"Charming." Lucius rolled his eyes. "Come. Hermione," he commanded, inclining her head. "We are clearly not wanted here."

She nodded, moving in front of him. He looked at her with a glint in his eye. This couldn't be good.

Without even a chance to register what was happening he had snaked an arm around her waist, pulled her in close and planted his lips straight onto hers.

She melted a little at his touch. She wanted to run. To scream. To push him away but something felt so, so right. She knew he was only doing it to get a rise out of Charlie, but this was a game she was willing to play along with. So, she snaked her arms around his waist and allowed him to pull her closer, not an inch between them.

The kiss went for what seemed an eternity. It wasn't terrible. His lips were soft, he was well schooled in the art of kissing. In fact, she would probably rate it as the best kiss she had ever been on the receiving end of.

And just like that, just as she was getting into it, he broke the kiss, looked at Charlie and said, "Fuck you." And apparated them both away leaving a slack-jawed Weasley behind, alone.

Hermione blinked, breathless. Lucius's hold around her waist didn't loosen. Steel grey eyes searching brown molten orbs for any hint of disgust or hatred and he was surprised he didn't find any.

"Where are we?" She asked casually as if the kiss never happened. Looking around a large foyer of what she guessed was yet another manor.

"One of my holiday homes. This one is in Romania, not far from where we just were. I have one in France too."

"Fancy," She mumbled awkwardly as they stood in silence.

"Are… Are we going to pretend that kiss never happened?" She asked softly.

"We can if that is what you want."

"I'm honestly not sure what I want." She really didn't.

She stepped back as he released the grip on his waist, and she was crestfallen just a little. She loved the way she felt against his body, adored the feel of his lips on hers but didn't fancy the repercussions of what would happen if she were to pursue something more with him.

"We are both adults here. If you want to pursue this and see where it leads, I am all for it. If not, we can still be friends." He shrugged. "Believe it or not but I actually feel some connection with you. You are smart, funny, interesting and beautiful."

"Th…Thank you," She stammered, unsure. What exactly was he playing at here? He had nothing to gain, he had already received what he wanted from her. Was there something else he needed that she didn't know about?

Only time would tell.

 **A/N: Well. That happened. I just write, the characters seem to choose their own destiny lol. I had no intention for a fight with Charlie or a kiss with Hermione.**

 **Thanks for all the reviews. I really feel the love xx**

 **-Aliasmel1**


	12. Chapter 12

She gnawed her bottom lip hard, almost hard enough to draw blood. Sucking in a breath of fresh air as she sat on a balcony in Lucius's holiday Manor in Romania trying to get her thoughts straight. Sipping from a tall glass of orange juice she needed to be alone for the moment to process what had happened. She really needed something heavier than orange juice but in her current state of mind, and the fact she did stupid things when she drank anything with an alcoholic content, she thought perhaps it was best not to have anything intoxicating.

She felt so bad that she had allowed herself to be consumed by the kiss of a Malfoy. To enjoy the kiss of a somebody was one thing, but to enjoy the kiss of a Malfoy was a whole different kettle of Nifflers. His lips were soft, the way they brushed against her own in the most tender way sent her weak at the knees and made her head spin with glee.

She wanted to hate him for it, she wanted to hate herself for enjoying it, but the reality was, it was the best kiss she had ever had planted on her lips. Better than any kiss Ron had subjected her too, better than the kiss her and Harry had shared in the tent alone one-night chasing Horcruxes. Admittedly, that kiss was close to this kiss from Lucius, but not quite. She had always wondered why she chose Ron and not Harry… She had better chemistry with Harry but chose Ron instead, probably the worst choice of her life, well, that was up till now when she decided to kiss Lucius back. Shit.

She sighed, frustrated. Is this a path she wanted to tread down? If she did, she would need to tread carefully through the complications that could and would arise. He was a pureblood, she a Muggleborn. It wasn't all that long ago he was seeking to rid her and her kind from the world… Of course, he had shown redemption and expressed he was sorry for the atrocities he had partaken in... But still… That didn't fully erase what had been said or done over the years. She could forgive, but she could never forget. Already the foundations for a relationship would be built on a basis of hatred.

She took another sip from her glass, ankles folded together as her eyes focused on a bird flying past and for one moment, she wished her life were as easy and carefree as that. To not have this worry weighing her down. How could one kiss change her mood in a matter of seconds and have her questioning everything about her life?

Could you imagine what the general public would say if they were to start a relationship? Could you imagine what her friends would say! People would talk. She would be ostracized no doubt and shunned from their circle. How would one even broach that subject?

Would it be a casual, "Oh, hey guys, I decided to let Lucius Malfoy into my life intimately and now he and I are a thing. Yes, yes it was not but a few years ago that he wanted to kill me but let bygones be bygones." She said to herself in a mock, condescending tone before snorting. That sounded totally stupid and unbelievable.

She could see the good in Lucius, of course, she could. After all, he said he was sorry, and he had more than redeemed himself but… he was a Malfoy. They were known for being vain, egotistical and narcissistic. It ran through their veins like lifeblood, it was almost a prerequisite to being a Malfoy.

She could also see his caring side, it was obvious he did and still does care for his wife on a deeper level than she had ever thought was possible for a Malfoy and it showed her that he was indeed human and not some cold, unassuming machine running on auto-pilot.

What would Draco think? Not that she cared, but she could bet her last galleon on it that he would give her an extremely hard time about it. He may even go out of his way to antagonise her. But then again, what if Draco didn't care? She snorted again. Draco would make it his business to make her life a living hell. Again, he was after all a Malfoy and they were like that.

-o-o-o-o-o

Lucius sat quietly; a tumbler of brandy clutched gently in his hand as he sat on the balcony of his room. Legs crossed primly he stared out across the rolling hills upon which his Manor perched. He loved coming here to clear his mind but right now, that wasn't working. His mind was working overtime.

He shouldn't have kissed her, that was duly noted, but seeing A Weasley so insulted was just the icing on the cake. The look on his face was priceless and he was sure he would never see that look on the face of a Weasley again.

The kiss was soft and sweet, the scent on her still lingered on his skin and it delighted his senses. It was the first time in a long time that he had felt the sweet tantalising kiss of a woman, even if it was Hermione Granger. Not that there was anything wrong with her, her kiss was sweet, her touch invigorating but she was no Narcissa and that was fine, he wasn't trying to replace her by any stretch of the imagination.

He downed the remainder of his brandy in deep thought. He could get used to having the little with around. She was somewhat easy on the eyes and had a good head on her shoulders. She wasn't the gold-digging type that would often come running when they heard the Malfoy name. No. She wasn't like that. She was different from most of the women he had ever met before. She had ambition and drive in life. He liked that about her.

He liked the spark she had. He liked the viciousness that would sometimes come to the surface. He loved the way she could hold her own in a fight verbally or magically, and if the truth was known the little swot could probably hold her own physically in a fight too.

But now he was at a cross-road. Take the path well-travelled and continue on with his life of loneliness or carve a new path, a new road, travel that and see where it took him.

He liked the girl. He would admit that. But she was a Muggle-born and he a Pure Blood. What would people think? He shrugged, then again, he really didn't give two sickles what anybody else thought. They didn't pay his way through life, they didn't own him so why the hell should he care what they thought.

The only worry was Draco. What would he think, he was one person whose opinion he really did care about. After all, he was about the only living relative he had left except for his great uncle who lived in the south of France and was more of a recluse than he.

But, in saying that Draco was a grown man of his own now looking down the barrel of engagement and a wedding and he wouldn't be around forever. Sooner or later he would have a family of his own and Lucius would be not but an afterthought and that scared him a little. The whole thought of being left alone without anyone to care for his scared him.

Hermione was a soft, caring young woman who would care for him. But then again, there was the age gap, he was many years her senior, that was another sour point for him.

He sighed. This could either go one of two ways, he could end up as miserable and lonely as he was before he invited the vivacious little cow into his home and somewhat into his life or he could come out of this happier than when he started and it was all up to her. He was open to trying anything with her should she want to. She was an adult and she could choose the path herself. She needed to seek him out, he couldn't force himself on her again or it would just confuse her and himself even further.

Did he have feelings for her? Yes, in a way. He had a certain fondness for her but that is about as far as they went, they were only skin deep. He guessed he liked her as much as he could like someone he once previously hated.

He liked spending time with her and he certainly liked the way her lips felt upon his… He wouldn't reject her kiss if she so chose to bless him with another one. For now, he would just bide his time and hope for the best. He assumed it wouldn't take the little vixen too long, after all, who could resist him, he thought to himself.

-o-o-o-o-o-

She needed to see him. She wanted to kiss him again and based solely on that one kiss she would work out if she actually wanted to pursue something a little more than their current platonic relationship. She didn't have to jump straight into bed with him right then and there, no, not at all. She could take her time and see where it led, she damn well wasn't going to just give her heart to him on a whim, he would have to earn it. No, for a while it would just be fun and games, nothing more, nothing less.

She loved the excitement of establishing a new relationship and that new period when you want nothing more than to be with that person. Be there for their every breath, from the moment their eyes open and they close again at night.

She gagged a little. She remembered once when she felt the same way about Ron and look how well that one turned out. She almost wished she could wipe the entirety of their relationship from her mind.

She stood up and marched out of her room and a few doors down. She knew where he was, he told her he would be there just clearing his mind. She hoped that he had had more luck in doing so than she did because right now, her head was even fuller now than before she went out there to think.

Shoulders back, she pulled herself up to full height. On the outside, she looked as calm and a stoic as she ever had, but her insides were almost eating themselves to the point she wanted to throw up all over the place. She was certain she may throw up from the nervous swirling in the pit of her stomach from doing something this bloody brazen. This wasn't going to end well. But it was better to have tried and failed then t not have tried at all What is Lucius Malfoy turned out to be her soul mate; she snorted, as if.

She marched herself through the doors of his bedroom and out to the sunlit balcony where he was sitting, staring out, unmoving. Shit. She should have had a little Dutch courage before she had come out here.

"Lucius?" Her breath a husky whisper as she sauntered over to him oozing confidence that she certainly didn't have right now. Well. Now or never.

She gently lowered herself into his lap. His eyes widened and then narrowed in surprise, what was she playing at. Forget that, her scent was amazing.

And then she did it. Her soft rose-coloured lips brushed across his own. His breath stuck in his throat as he gently tangled his long fingers into auburn hair as he returned the zealous kiss.

His lips were amazing, the kiss was amazing, and she had deduced from the few seconds their lips had been locked together that perhaps there was a little something lingering under the surface. A promise of something more, an attraction that perhaps could manifest into something of magnitude.

He deepened the kiss, running his tongue along her bottom lip and she didn't pull away, instead, she opened her mouth to allow him access and he noted that she melted into him just so. Her warm body against him and her soft lips on his had his head spinning. Who knew that little girl he met many a year ago would be sitting on his lap years later with his tongue down her throat and be enjoying it. Not him, that was for sure.

He broke the kiss, breathless, fingers still tangled in her long auburn locks.

"What was that for?" He quirked a brow almost into his hairline.

"I just wanted to be sure the first time wasn't a fluke and it really was that good." She blushed.

"And?"

"And yes, it was just as good, if not better."

"Of course it was, my dear. I am a Malfoy after all."

She rolled her eyes. "And that is exactly something I would expect a Malfoy to say." She swatted him playfully on the arm. Perhaps this foray into a relationship with a Malfoy was going to be better than she had ever imagined. Only time would tell.

 **A/N: Thanks to everyone who took the time to review! I am loving where this story is going. At first, I was a little apprehensive that I wouldn't be able to capture the true Lucius but I have had many tell me I am doing a good job so thank you for the feedback.**

 **-Aliasmel1**


	13. Chapter 13

The beginning of a new relationship was always exciting and interesting. You wanted to spend as much time as you could with your new-found love interest. Every kiss was passionate, every touch was titillating, exhilarating and exciting. And this was currently ringing true for Hermione as she was tangled in Lucius Malfoy's arms, her own arms draped lazily over his shoulders where she had been for the past few hours, lips locked in an intense battle of passion, neither growing bored of the other. Both relishing in the touch and the feel of another. All of the hatred, all of the animosity that they may have once felt towards one another had fallen by the wayside.

Lucius making up for lost time, making up for the years he missed out on the tender touch of a woman. His cock pressing painfully against his trousers as every brush of her lips drove him even crazier with desire. It was one thing to feel a women's tender lips, but another to be buried balls deep inside of one. However, he wouldn't force her and scare her off. No. He would wait until she was good and ready.

Despite popular belief he actually _liked_ Hermione Granger, so much so, right now all he wanted to do was pick her up, throw her on his bed and have his wicked, wicked way with her all night long and well into the morning. But he wouldn't he wanted to treat her right. There was something different about her, she was a far cry from the gold-digging types who usually tried to force their way into his home and his bed. She had class and morals, something so many women didn't have. It was a nice change.

She was no Narcissa, but right now, she was a worthy substitute there was no denying that. Not only was she beautiful in her own way, but she was also smart too. She wasn't on par with Narcissa in the looks department, but she had a genuinely nice nature that was actually pleasant to be around and to him, that was attractive more than being aesthetically pleasing.

He could only hope that Draco would show some civility towards the girl, it wasn't like she was going to waltz in and try to be his mother, no, but he knew the Hermione Granger subject was touchy with him and deep down he still harboured some dislike or hatred towards her for the way she had treated him throughout their time at Hogwarts together, although, could they really blame her? They basically were trying to kill her and her kind off.

Right now, while the relationship was in its infancy he would try to keep it on the down low, not because he was ashamed of her, but because it wasn't anyone else's business what he did with his life and he didn't want to scare her off. He could see the headlines now in the Daily Prophet.

Hermione didn't mind Lucius, sure, he did have an arrogant flare about him, and he could be short-tempered, but for a man of his vintage, he was still very well put together and easy on the eye. And with age came experience as so displayed just in the few hours they had spent tangled in one another's embrace; she had never felt so at ease with a man this early on in a relationship. There were no nerves it was just… easy she guessed. Was it really a relationship though, or was it just a good snog-session? She honestly didn't know. She would like to try this with him and if it failed they could part way as friends and go about their lives knowing they tried to give it a try.

She wondered how she would get rid of Ron now she had another suitor, she knew how incredibly stubborn he would be if he knew she was seeing someone, but then again… It was Lucius Malfoy and perhaps that would be enough persuasion for him to finally let her go. She could just imagine the conversation with him now about how Lucius was a terrible, vile and evil man and she deserved better.

She assumed Ron and the whole world would know by now. Charlie would have run straight back to Ron either via a Portkey or bloody Dragon. At the rate a Dragon could fly, because she was sure he had pulled a damn snow white and managed to wrangle at least one dragon that allowed him to climb aboard vs the number of hours since they had left Charlie behind in a huff was more than ample time for him to run and shout it from the roof-tops.

It wouldn't be long, and she was sure there would be howlers coming in from Harry, who although very sweet was also very, very stupid at times and couldn't accept the fact it was over between her and Ron. The next howler would come from Molly who much like Harry wouldn't accept the fact it was over. No, Molly was holding on for dear life much like a parasite latching on and refusing to let go as they consumed their host, only Molly was neither sweet nor her friend, no, Molly left quite the bitter taste in her mouth and she was glad she no longer had that hag as her mother-in-law.

That was the problem with Molly, according to Hermione. She tried to come across as the sweet, helpful mother figure who would do anything for her children but she was annoying and meddlesome, she in essence still wanted a say in her children's lives long after they had grown and married and that was also a deciding factor in Hermione leaving Ron, she hated Molly's helicopter ways.

She had basically mapped out Hermione's whole life for her down to the most minute details, expecting a child every three years, so Ron could raise a big family just like he had grown up in, but there were ample years between each child to give them the attention that they needed at a young age. It made Hermione sick.

And then maybe, just maybe a third howler would come from Ron of course, rambling on about how he was hoping she would change her mind and he still loved her. Blah, blah, she could see it now. Honestly, this was exhausting knowing what she had to go through just to enter a new relationship when it was no one's business but theirs.

"You know," She began, getting off his lap and stretching her arms high above her head, the shirt she was wearing slipped up her torso just enough for him to catch a hint of the milky white skin beneath and he licked his lips needily.

"What do I know?" He asked, distracted, preoccupied with what he was seeing.

"The howlers will come soon," She finished.

"So?" He shrugged, scowling just a touch when her shirt fell back down covering her modestly once more. "I care not for what a Weasley or other thinks. They can sit there living in their little dreamland where you and the sad excuse you called a husband are still together, or they can accept it and move on. At the end of the day, I'm not going to be crying in my Manor whilst they are seething in their shit-shack."

She thought about what he said with deep regard and he did have a point, why lose sleep over the opinion of people that you really didn't care about? Why worry yourself what others think?

"The thing that will annoy them most is that it's you, they hate you with the ferocity of a million fires." She brushed a stray lock of hair behind her ear.

"And I also feel the same way, and you know what, I don't care what they think or how they feel about me. Again, Hermione, you need to stop worrying about what they will think, it is none of their business what do you in your life romantically or otherwise. If you want to see me, you are a free woman to do so and don't let them guilt trip you otherwise." He got off the chair and stretched, his muscle tingling from having her astride him for hours, not that he minded, of course. In fact, she had caved faster than he had imagined.

"I just worry about what people think of me, that's all." She shrugged, leaning on the railing of the balcony and watched as the afternoon sun began to dip lazily behind the mountains, majestically bathing the countryside in a warm, yellow, mesmerising glow.

"When you get to a certain point in your life, you don't care what anyone thinks except those closest to you who have or should have your best interests at heart."

"What you saying it probably true but I am not at that stage in my life yet." She sighed sadly, rested her chin on her palm and her elbow on the balcony.

"Sometimes I forget, about the age difference that is. Is this morally wrong? You are the same age as my son, I am old enough to be your father."

Now that, that was a little off-putting. He liked the girl, but he forgot how young she was at times because she had a decent head on her shoulders. Wise beyond her years.

He sidled up beside her, an arm snaked around her petite waist as his chin dipped down, resting on her shoulder. This felt so right, but surely it was wrong?

"Now who is the one who is worried about what others think?"

"I'm not worried about what others think. I am worried about what you think. I don't want you to feel as if I am a dirty old man preying on a young, brilliant girl." He sighed sadly. Maybe this was a stupid idea.

The sound of silence filled their ears as they watched the sun dip further behind the mountains, neither saying another word until it was out of sight. Both basking in the beauty of the sunset together.

"I don't care, Lucius. If I did care, I wouldn't have come with you to Romania. I knew something may happen between us eventually if we kept spending time together. I full well knew that and that is why I kept coming. That is why I spent time with you because I like you. I can see past what you were for who you really are."

He rubbed circles in the small of her back, deep in thought. So, she didn't care about the age and she didn't hate him. Well, those were two solid foundations to build a relationship upon.

"So," She began.

"So. Do we want to take this further, or end it here on a good note, part ways and write off today as just some fun between friends?" He asked nervously, he felt like he was seventeen again asking Narcissa out on a date.

She turned her head, her eyes catching his own with deep regard. "I think that we see where this goes. If it works, it works. If it doesn't, we both agree to part ways amicably and go on about our lives with the pettiness that Ron is showing towards me currently."

"Agreed." He nodded.

"Now. If only he would leave…" She sighed forlornly, melting just a little into his hand as it continued to rub her lower back tenderly.

He smiled wickedly. "I think I have already arranged that."

"Do I want to know?"

"Probably not." He smiled, looking very much the cat that got the canary.

 **A/N: Here is a little chapter to tide you all over hopefully. If you read any of my other stories, they have all been updated over the past few days. Thank you all for the reviews, they are the inspiration I need to keep going when I feel like giving up.**

 **This chapter was hard to write, I edited it so many times because I didn't know what direction I wanted to go in, but I am happy with my choice.**

 **-Aliasmel1**


	14. Chapter 14

Dinner that night had somehow quickly turned into him pressing her hard against a wall in the dining room with a buzz of sexual tension whirring in the air tenfold, pressing his lips equally as hard to her lips and letting all the pent-up years of not touching a woman sexually out. The desire, the need, the longing for another's touch all bubbling to the surface in a pressure cooker that could explode in spectacular style.

Something just felt right. She couldn't exactly put her finger on it right now, but she felt so at ease tangled in his embrace and caressing his lips with her own. When he touched her, it had awoken a feeling deep inside of her that she had never felt before. Excitement mingled with desire tied together with the unknown made for those head spinning and dizzying feelings, the butterflies in the pit of her stomach and the heart fluttering at every touch. She had never, ever felt like this and she loved it.

He knew exactly where to touch her to have her nails digging into his back through his robes with desire. He knew the way in which to nip her neck playfully, she would throw her head back just so, allowing him better access to continue. He felt the way she quivered when he ran featherlight fingertips from her bare knee and up her milky thigh stopping at her hip. Dipping a finger under the elastic of her underwear his hand halted. She looked at him, terrified. Fear swimming in the depths of her eyes for not but a few seconds, but it had been there none the less. Fuck maybe he was moving too fast for her.

She relaxed a touch against him, releasing the breath she was holding. This was going faster than she expected, this was going faster than she wanted but something felt right, something felt as if everything were falling into place.

He dipped a finger into her hot, slick, wet heat. She bucked her hips against him as he traced small circles across her clit. Shit. Fuck. No. She didn't want to be consumed by him so early on, she wanted to make him work for this.

He kissed her harder, deeper, he loved the way she gripped him tighter when he deepened the kiss exponentially but despite all that, despite her being soaking wet with desire for him, she didn't sleep with him.

He had been turned on beyond measure as she let out a jagged breath and came against his hand while tangled in his embrace. His cock dug painfully into his pants and against her leg, he wanted nothing more than to sheath himself within her but that didn't happen, not that weekend, anyway.

And true to his word he was the perfect gentleman. Although he had found it incredibly hard not to ravish her as she slept with her ass pressed against his hard cock. He had to physically bite his tongue to the point it was bleeding to take the focus off the teasing and the little swot knew exactly what she was doing to him.

She had wanted to share the bed with him, which he allowed. For hours he kissed and teased and nipped and worked his hands of magic only for the little tease to roll over and go to sleep despite being dripping wet and more than ready for him to fuck her well into the night and into the next morning.

It had killed her inside to do so, but she didn't want to rush into this relationship, the wounds he had caused years ago were still fresh in her memory and she didn't want to fuck him the first time she slid into bed with him. She wanted to wait, she wanted it to be special and she knew how much of a tease she was being, Merlin, she knew how much this was teasing her. She wanted nothing more than to clamber on him, sheath himself on his hard cock and ride him until they both came together.

Her eyes fluttered open to the rising sun streaming through the wall to floor glass doors of the bedroom, the sun peaking over the mountains that the manor overlooked. She rolled over, stretching her arms above her head as she did so before resting a hand on the bare chest of the man beside her.

The soft rise and fall of his chest and his gentle, rhythmic breaths told her he was still asleep. She gently slid her legs over the side of the best so as to not to wake him and went to stand. Lightning fast, his hand shot out, grabbed her around the wrist and dragged her back into the bed, her back against his chest.

"Trying to sneak out and do the walk of shame," he said in jest, his husky voice vibrating his chest against her back.

"Haha, you wish." She relaxed against his warm frame.

He growled low in his throat, "Actually, I do."

"And now, we have to go back to reality. I have to face them. I will have to face them all." She sighed sadly, still relaxing against his bare chest.

"Well, if you have to face the hypothetical firing squad, I can be there with you, not that it is any of their business." He sniffed indignantly, wrapping his arms around the girl's frame and pulling her in closer.

"You really think that is a good idea?" She quirked a brow that he couldn't see in question.

"Probably not but they are less likely to do anything stupid when the big, bad, evil Death Eater is there to back you up."

She smiled toothily. "Perhaps you are useful after all."

"And don't you forget it." He planted a kiss on the back of her head before getting to his feet and stretching. He hated the Weasleys now more than he ever did.

o-o-o-o-o-o

Hermione had spent most of the day trying in vain to prolong their trip so she didn't have to go back home, it wasn't until he reminded her that she had to go to work the next day she changed her tune. Of course, he knew the reason why she was dragging her feet and digging them in, she didn't want to face him. She didn't want to face the family that once called her their own. He snorted, she deserved much more than what they could offer her.

The two touched down in Hermione's entrance hall, her arm looped through his tightly as if she didn't want to let go. He could almost hear her heart beating against her ribcage with panic. He had hoped his little talk with Ron had sunken in and he had chosen to go about his merry way without the need for force.

The house was quiet, eerily quiet, too quiet for Hermione's liking. The creaking of the floorboards roused her, her head snapping to the source.

Ron looked worse for wear as if he had been crying but the sadness made way to anger when he laid eyes on Lucius Malfoy.

"Is it true?" He asked in an eerily quiet voice.

"Is… is what true?" Hermione's voice shook as she grasped onto Lucius a little tighter as if he would make it all go away as if he would make it better. The truth was, he could, and he would if he had to.

"Him? Really?" Ron inclined his head towards Lucius as his bottom lip quivered and she could tell he was using every fibre of his being to hold it all together.

"Well, there is no point lying. Yes." She shrugged.

"Of all the people in the entire world you had to choose the vilest, vindictive cunt of them all. I thought you were smarter than that. I thought you had more brains, but it seems I painted the wrong picture of you. Of all the people. Him!" He threw his hands in the air, exasperated.

"Lucius fucking Malfoy. It wasn't that long ago that he wanted to rid you from this planet, Hermione!" He admonished, disbelief etched into every line of his face.

"People change, Ron. Some for the better… Some not…" She trailed off, looking at him pointedly. "Lucius is twice the man you are."

Ron's mouth opened and closed a few times. That was the jab right to the heart that he didn't need nor want. Ouch. Way to hit a man when he was already down.

"Yeah, because he's two-faced," Ron quipped back trying to get in one last stab at her but it didn't worry her in the slightest.

Hermione rolled her eyes. "If you say so."

"I know so. Don't come running back to me when he fucks you over and his true colours begin to push through that façade he has throw up!" He fished through his pockets and pulled out a piece of paper and unfolded it. He thrust it into her hand. "You got what you fucking wanted. You win. I'm not going to fight anymore, not when you have him on your side."

Lucius smirked. He always won, there was no losing.

Hermione glanced down at the paper. Divorce papers signed. Instantly a weight lifted off her shoulders and she beamed.

"I'll see myself out of our house."

"It's technically mine, Ron. It always has, it was never yours."

Ron only turned on his heel and stalked out, extending a long, pale middle finger as he left.

The door slammed so loud it rattled every window in the house and Hermione stood in stunned silence.

"He's gone. He's finally gone. What did you do?" She kissed Lucius hard on the lips, the piece of paper still clutched in her hand not even letting him reply until moments later when she came up for air, panting.

"I can be very, very persuasive, Miss Granger." He raised a brow pointedly at her.

"Miss Granger?" She raised an eyebrow, mimicking his own.

"Force of habit," he drawled seductively, and Hermione knew that it was a total, barefaced lie.

"It turns you on calling me that, doesn't it?" She offered.

"You have no idea." He nipped at her neck playfully.

 **A/N: Good riddance to bad rubbish. Sorry, I loathe Ron. Why? I don't know honestly… He annoys me and Hermione was always too good for him.**

 **-Aliasmel1**


	15. Chapter 15

"Lucius fucking Malfoy?!" Harry admonished, throwing his hands high in the air in a mix of anger and frustration as he paced the kitchen of Hermione's house like a frustrated, caged tiger about to lash out in utmost anger.

"Lucius Malfoy?" He questioned again as if asking would change the outcome of the question.

"Is there a problem, Harry?" She asked harshly jaw tightening in anger.

"Yes. Yes, there is." He stopped pacing like a caged tiger and stood stock-still staring her right in the eye.

"A tiger doesn't change its stripes, Hermione!"

"Well, actually, the saying is a leopard doesn't change its spots if we want to get technical here." She jumped up onto the bench, sitting precariously on the edge swinging her legs gently.

"It's the same sentiment. Same meaning. Stop trying to change the bloody subject."

"I am not trying to change the subject I am just correcting you." She shrugged. "And don't come barging into my house to lecture me on my life choices.

"But he loved you. He still loves you and instead you are out traipsing around with that abomination."

She scoffed. "He is hardly an abomination, Harry. He's actually quite nice once you get to know him."

"So basically what you are saying is he is an asshole, but I will get used to it?" He began pacing again with anger.

"It's not like that, Harry. He's a totally different person to what you perceive him as. He's very well-spoken, interesting, sweet, though-" She was cut off my Harry mock gagging.

"Look. While you are running around sleeping with him, poor Ron is sitting in my loungeroom bawling his eyes out over you!"

"For starters." She slid off the bench and stormed up to Harry angrily, pressing her finger hard in his chest. "I have not slept with Lucius Malfoy." The fire grew deep in his usual soft chocolate eyes.

He held his hands up defensively. "Oh, I am so sorry I got that wrong. It's so good to see you still possess your morals and values. Fuck, head on down to the ministry and change your name to Modesty," He bit, sarcasm dripping heavily off every word that he spat at her.

"Can you repeat that again, Harry? I wasn't sure if I heard a sarcastic undertone there," She spat back at him venomously, stabbing her finger hard into his chest. He grabbed her tightly around the wrist, anger swirling in the depths of his eyes.

"This isn't about me, is it Harry? This is about the fact the magical trio has been broken. This is about you unable to let go of the past. Clinging onto the last bit of your childhood feverishly and not wanting to let go. We are adults now, Harry. Things change, people move on." She snatched her wrist as hard as she could away from him and took a step back.

Harry didn't scare Hermione, she had seen him angry before so trying this shit on her was a waste of his time.

He carded a hand a shaky white hand through black hair slowly, blinking slowly at the girl from behind his glasses.

"This isn't about that. It isn't about anything. It is about the fact I think you are making a very stupid mistake. He hated you and your kind not all that long ago, Hermione and now, now you are in a relationship with him. What are his real motives? What is the real drive behind his sudden change of heart?" His voice softened.

"Excuse me? My kind? What is that supposed to mean Harry?"

"For fuck sake. You know what I meant Hermione! I didn't mean any disrespect but you know exactly what I meant."

"People change, Harry. Voldemort killed his wife for Merlin's sake. Do you now think that would be enough for someone to change and seek redemption." She threw her hands in the air angrily.

"Not him. Not someone that is pure evil, Hermione."

"Look. Just go, Harry. Nothing good is going to come of this conversation right now. You're angry, I'm angry, just drop it and come back another time."

"No!" He snapped, defiantly. "We need to sort this shit out now. Are you under the Imperious curse? Is he blackmailing you?"

"It's nothing like that, Harry!"

"Nothing at all like that, actually," Lucius Malfoy drawled as he stepped into the kitchen with grace and finesse.

"H…How long have you been there?" Hermione asked taken aback.

"Not that long, _Modesty_." A mischievous grin fluttered across his lips and vanished.

"You!" Harry snarled, rounding on Lucius with speed.

Lucius poked his cane into the other man's chest to stop him coming any closer. "I believe the lady asked you to leave," voice icy cold.

"I believe I didn't ask for your opinion, Harry snapped."

"Harry, just leave," Hermione begged with desperation in her voice, trying to diffuse the volatile, pressure cooker of a situation that was about to explode in spectacular fashion.

"Fine!" He snapped bitterly, turning to Hermione. "But only because you asked. I would never take orders off a cunt like him."

"So charming, Potter. Do you kiss your mother with that mouth? Oh, wait…" He trailed off.

"Lucius," Hermione reprimanded him.

Harry's eyes flashed dangerously as he rounded on Lucius again, now clearly angered and riled up more than before. "I'll take you. I'll kill you."

"Tsk tsk. Let's not get our ambitions mixed up with our capabilities. What are you going to do? Unleash an expelliarmus on me. That's about the extent of your duelling abilities." His lips twisted into an evil smirk.

"Fuck you." Harry was visibly seething as he reached for his wand in his pocket.

"The both of you stop," Hermione pleaded. "Harry go home and diffuse the situation. Lucius, while it is admirable you are here to defend me, you really don't need to kill Harry."

Both men muttered to themselves, Harry leaving the room without another word.

"How did you get in? "Hermione asked, hands on her hips, lips pursued.

"I saw you remove your wards once, that is all it takes for me to memorise something."

"Smartass."

"Quite."

"You can't just go around entering peoples homes when you feel like it, what if I were naked in here?"

"I only enter the homes of people I like thank you, and that was exactly what I was hoping for, to be honest, you traipsing around naked. Instead, I had to come to defend your honour."

She rolled her eyes. "My honour didn't need defending thank you very much." She moved across the kitchen grabbing two mugs from the bench and turning the kettle on.

"It did from where I was standing."

"Well then move to another angle and re-asses."

"Like here?" He asked softly, snatching her up in his arms as she made to push past him. "Or here?" He leant down and placed a kiss on her lips.

"Both of those are good," She confirmed, almost melting into his arms.

o-o-o-o-o-o-o

"Father?"

"Mmm?" Lucius hummed; attention focused on the Daily Prophet clutched in his hands he offered Draco a quick glance.

"Can Astoria come over for dinner tonight?"

Lucius folded the paper and placed it gently on the stark white linen tablecloth that covered the mahogany below.

"I suppose," He said stiffly and dryly. He didn't really like the girl; she wasn't on his list of top fifty favourite people in the world. Actually, he didn't even have a list of top ten favourite people right now. Right now, his world included Draco and extended as far as Hermione and he was quite happy with that thank you very much.

"You should invite Hermione over…" Draco offered.

Lucius sat up, a little more interested now. "And you are okay with that?"

"Why wouldn't I be?" He shrugged his broad shoulders high. "If being with her makes you happy who am I to tell you otherwise.?"

"It doesn't bother you that a girl your age, one you went to school with is interested in me?"

"Not in the slightest. You see even if she isn't my favourite person in the world, I will make an effort to be cordial about it and it would be nice if you could extend the same niceties to Astoria." He folded his arms tightly across his chest.

"But Astoria is so boring."

"She's also a pureblood," Draco countered, slamming a fist on the table.

"A boring pureblood," he offered. "Honestly Draco, of all the woman in all of the world you had to pick her."

Draco scoffed. "Honestly. All my life you were rambling on about how I needed to marry a pureblood and how it was imperative to continue the Malfoy line with the purest of blood and I find a lovely girl, although a bit dull, and it's like I am doing the Malfoy line a disservice." Grey eyes flashed angrily. He did what his father wanted and he was still ridiculed beyond measure.

"She is awfully drab, Draco but if she is who you want to be with then a guess a nice dinner to get to know her better might be a good idea. It might be nice for you to get to know Hermione better too."

"She might be drab to you but to me she is perfect. I have grown quite fond of her. She may not be on par with Hermione Granger for holding a conversation or on par with her intelligence, but we complement one another. She isn't as boring or vapid once you get to know her a little better."

Draco chewed a mouthful of toast slowly focusing on his father who looked completely uncomfortable in this situation right now.

"I'll take your word on that Draco." He pushed his chair back and pulled himself to his full height. "So, dinner tonight, I'll alert the elves, you tell Astoria and I'll inform Hermione. Last chance, are you ok with Hermione coming?"

Draco rolled his eyes back in his head. "I have told you, father. I am fine with it. If she makes you happy, I will welcome her to dinner with open arms. Fuck, this is the happiest I have seen you in forever and if she can cause such a large change in you in just a few days I will invite her into the family without a second thought. You show Astoria the same niceties tonight and I will exchange pleasantries with Hermione till the end of time because it makes YOU happy."

He couldn't help but raise a brow and narrow an eye. Since when had his unpleasant and often cold child been replaced with one of reason and such wisdom and insight?

Draco's words weighed heavily upon him. Draco was willing to welcome Hermione into their home without a qualm and accept her for who she was despite his upbringing and here he was unable to accept the fact that Draco may very well love Astoria enough to marry her. He had a lot to learn.

All he could do was give Draco a curt nod. He didn't really know what else to say.

o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o

Lucius sauntered up to her desk purposefully. Woollen travelling cloak wrapped tight around his husky frame. Leather gloves enveloping his hand, grasping the polished snakehead of his cane tightly.

Reaching out a leather-clad hand he gently fingered one of the dragon trinkets on her desk, eyes burning into the top of her head as she feverishly scribbled madly on a piece of parchment.

"Just give me a sec," she said airily as she piloted the quill over the parchment.

"Wiltshire has one l, not two," he pointed out helpfully as he watched over what she was doing.

She jumped so high in the air, he was sure he might have to peel her from the ceiling.

"L..Lucius!" She stammered, taken aback. She never expected to see him here, not today, anyway. "Business or pleasure?" She managed to choke out once the surprise of him being there vanished.

He growled low in his throat and raised a brow. "Pleasure, if you are offering." A coy smile crossed his pink lips.

Heat crept into her cheeks and she had to avert her gaze for a moment, sheepishly. "If you are here for another dragon…" She trailed off.

He waved a dismissive hand. "If I wanted another dragon, I know exactly who's ear I have to whisper sweet nothings into to get that approved." He smiled charmingly at her.

"What do I owe the pleasure of your company on this otherwise incredibly boring day?"

"An invitation to dinner tonight at the Manor. Draco's idea." He continued to finger the dragon trinket absentmindedly.

"Oh. Oh." Her eyes grew wide. Dinner. That meant Draco would be there and she didn't know how this would unfold.

"Is that a yes or a no?"

"Sorry. I didn't think Draco would be interested in having me over. I would have thought he would think this whole situation was… odd."

Lucius waved a dismissive hand. "It was his idea, actually."

"Where is the real Draco, and what did you do with him?"

"I've been asking myself that a lot lately too. He's…different. No longer the cold, condescending cock head of old. I think Astoria may have warmed him up and shown him the tender touch of a woman."

"We have a way of bringing out the best in men."

He snorted derisively. "What was Weasel's excuse then?"

She tapped her bottom lip in deep thought. "He was too self-obsessed I think."

"Stupid, stupid man. And throw a life with you away. That is blasphemy." He gently took her hand, brought it to his lips and kissed the tender, white skin.

"What should I wear?" She nibbled her bottom lip in deep thought.

"Nothing. Come naked." A quirk of a brow and a ghost of a smile crossed his face for the smallest time before it faded once again.

"Formal. Casual?"

"Anything will do. Honestly. It's not a ball in the grand hall, I couldn't care less if you came in a potato sack, to be honest. I'll see you tonight." He began to leave the room, stopping mid-way he turned back to face her, "And I wasn't lying, it would be amazing if you came naked."

"Nice try."

"It doesn't hurt to push one's luck now, does it?"

"Bye, Lucius." She waved him off with a roll of her eyes.

 **A/N: Hi guys! Sorry for the long delay. I have been working flat out lately and couldn't find the energy or time to write any chapters. I wish I could get paid to write Fan Fiction all day, but alas, it isn't a way to earn a living. I hope you all like this chapter!**

 **-Aliasmel1**


	16. Chapter 16

Hermione looked critically at herself in a full-length mirror at home. She honestly had no idea what to wear to the Manor for dinner that night. He promised her only Astoria and Draco would be there and she needn't get dressed up for the occasion, but they were purebloods and their sense and style were so far left field to her own. They would assume an Armani suit was just casual wear whilst she would assume jeans and a t-shirt were casual and there sat her issue now and probably for the entirety of the relationship with Lucius. They weren't from the same social groups, hell, he was almost in another universe.

She had changed four times already and her stomach was churning itself into a knot as it backflipped over and over again in her abdomen. It was ok for Lucius to be so at ease about this whole dinner, but she couldn't. She was literally coming into the Malfoy home as more than just a guest, she was coming into the home as someone who could potentially end up married into the family and she needed to make an impression. After all, Draco Malfoy would no doubt be scrutinising her every move or maybe she was just imagining that in her head. Either way, if the roles were reversed and Draco Malfoy with whom she had been mortal enemies with at school showed up for dinner with her mother she would be over-critical.

And Astoria, she was another pureblood that would look at her critically no doubt. At the end of the day, she was a mere muggle-born stepping into the realm of the unknown with twists and turns she could only dream of. A few months ago, if someone had have told her she would be seeing Lucius Malfoy romantically and he would be the ways and means to rid herself of Ron she would have laughed and then probably cried in the foetal position as she rocked backwards and forwards under the warm spray of the shower. It all seemed so surreal like she would open her eyes and find out she was in her normal, boring life still married to Ron and terribly unhappy.

She screwed her nose up at her reflection. Was her hair too frizzy? Should she use some more sleek-ezy in it to tame it just that little bit more? Was her hair too brown? Was her lipstick too red?

She growled low in her throat, frustrated. Why was this so damn hard to pick something to wear and run with it. She was already, she looked at the clock on her bedroom wall, ten minutes late and she really needed to leave like right now.

Smoothing a flat palm across the length of the knee-length black cocktail dress she wore, and shoving an errant strand of hair behind her ear with a little too much force she scratched her cheek with her short but somewhat sharp fingernails leaving a faint red mark marring her cheek. Great, was there anything else that could possibly go wrong right now?

Checking her reflection once more in the mirror she trudged from her bedroom with heavy footfalls, the black heels on her feet tapping viciously on the wooden floor below. Maybe she could just owl ahead and let them know she was feeling off-colour and wouldn't be able to attend the dinner. Yes, that was a perfect idea and she wished she had thought of it before she put herself through the torture and frustration of getting ready.

She strode with purpose out of her bedroom and headed to the kitchen where she kept a few stationery supplies for when she was in a rush. Pulling out a piece of paper stark white paper and a pen (opting for the muggle way, which was much easier than having to use a quill and an inkwell) she managed to scribe Lucius on the paper before a few softly placed footsteps rooted her to the spot, heart beating against her ribcage like a drum she daren't breath for fear someone had broken in.

The footsteps drew nearer and she looked up at a glacial pace, scared to see who it was and what the face of her potential murderer looked like. She was still young and had so many hopes and dreams and really didn't want to die yet but once she saw who it was, she visibly and audibly exhaled. "I should have known." Rolling her eyes, she threw the pen on the bench and watched it bounce twice before coming to an abrupt stop, there goes that idea.

"You were late, and I grew worried. Hermione Granger is never late." He stood on the opposite side of the bench reaching out he placed two fingers on the paper she was writing on and drew it towards him, flicking it around to read it.

"Lucius?" An eyebrow quirked in question.

"I… I was-" He cut her off gently.

"Going to cancel on me? Tell me you had taken ill and could no longer attend?" Tone heavy with accusation as he flicked the paper carelessly across the bench.

"What. No. Never," she protested half-heartedly whilst slightly impressed he knew the truth, a mock look of hurt etched onto her face.

"I wasn't born yesterday, woman. You are so indecisive, and you change your mind often. Add that to the fact you would be beside yourself coming to the Manor for dinner and wanting to impress everyone it didn't take me all that much brainpower to strategically conclude.

"Fine. Yes, that is exactly what I was doing. I can't do this," she protested as the sickness in the pit of her stomach intensified. She really hated stepping outside of her comfort zone and this was so far out for her it was almost in a different country.

"You can do this. It's Draco and I and Draco is hardly going to tear your head off and Astoria is a sweet girl. Who knows, you two might get on like a house on fire and become friends. Merlin knows you need a couple of those after recent going on's in your life." Reaching out he stroked her soft, smooth cheek with his equally smooth fingers in a gentle display of affection.

"Fine." She caved. "But only because you insisted." She pouted pathetically.

o-o-o-o-o-o

She blinked rapidly; Lucius's arms wrapped tightly around her waist as he apparated them directly into the foyer of Malfoy Manor. He stepped back an arm's length and looked down at her ensuring she had landed feet first and intact taking the moment to admire her.

"You look great."

She breathed a sigh of relief. He approved. "Thank you."

"The dragon came today," he bit out stiffly, turning his head away from her to look out across the large window and she knew something wasn't right.

"And?" She side-eyed him inquisitively. She knew him well enough now to know that the tone he had taken wasn't to be taken lightly and there may or may not have been a fuck-up of colossal proportions.

"Well. Let's just say we are having a few teething issues maybe." Broad shoulders shrugged as he tried not to look at her. Maybe she had been right about this whole dragon debacle and perhaps he flew off the handle and jumped to the biggest conclusion and it might not have even been needed.

"What sort of "teething issues" Lucius? She eyed him suspiciously sideways tugging the hem of her black dress nervously try to find an outlet for her nerves that were at the moment consuming her fully.

"Well. It's hardly my fault the dragon wasn't trained to a standard that I deemed fair. Straight out of the shipping crate it tried to bite my head off and snack upon me for breakfast. Honestly, I expected it to waltz right out of the crate and go about the grounds."

"And what? You expected it to start playing fetch and come when you called it?" Hands-on her hips and lips pursed she knew this was a terrible idea but of course, he had whispered a few sweet nothings into her ear, and she had willingly signed the paperwork. She mentally scolded herself over how stupid she was. He really was a mastermind at persuading people to do things they didn't want to do.

"Well… Maybe. Not quite but yes, basically." Chiselled jaw clenched tightly as something hung thick in the air and he tried to put a finger directly on it but it evaded him.

"And who told you to get the sweet little baby dragon that would have been ten times easier to train and less chance of beheading you and using you as an appetiser?" Hands placed firmly on him, red lips pursed in slight annoyance as she berated him with her eyes.

Ah, there it was, that feeling that was hanging thick in the air like smog, unmoving and unwavering. The old I was right, and you were wrong observation and he couldn't help but smile just a little for it had been many a year since that had hung proudly in his home. "Well you did BUT for the price I paid, I was expecting it to be fully trained and ready for duty. I've had to chain the poor wretch up out in the back garden because I was certain I would wake up during the night and it would be over my bed salivating."

"You know the saying you can't teach an old dog new tricks?"

"Not at all. Is that a muggle thing?"

She sighed, frustrated. "It basically means older animals are harder to train, the same rings true for your dragon you so desperately desired. This, this is why I didn't want you to have it."

"Right. Well, you live and you learn, don't you, pet?" Brushing it off and clapping his hands together indicating he was dropping the subject at hand momentarily he led her into the dining room.

Draco progressively looked her up and down for a moment and she wondered what hateful comments were racing through his mind right about now. Whatever he was thinking, there was no indication of it on his face nor did it pass his lips as the harsh words she had expected and she relaxed just a touch letting out a breath she didn't realise she had been holding it.

Poor Astoria looked about as comfortable as Hermione did in this situation. She had never really sat down with Lucius and she found him incredibly intimidating if she were honest. Her brown hair pulled up in a sleek ponytail, brown eyes wide as she clutched Draco's hand hard as if he were her lifeblood that she needed to continue breathing and existing.

Well, Hermione thought to herself, at least she wasn't the only uncomfortable one in this situation.

She never really knew Astoria, she was younger and she never had anything to do with Slytherins for the fact she thought they were all evil wretches who deserved little more than death. She snorted, look how that turned out for her. Hindsight, hey?

"Hermione, how are you?" Astoria beamed, dark brown eyes filled with a faint fear and worry that were possibly consuming her piece by piece as if almost looking thankful for a distraction.

"I…I'm good, I think." She was totally taken aback how Astoria almost met her as an old friend and not as the nose stuck in the air, too good for anyone pureblood stereotype she had formed in her head. She was finding she was being proven wrong time and time again, over and over when it came to both purebloods and Slytherins. Well then, that was awkward. She often pondered how different her life may have been had she tried to befriend a Slytherin or two at Hogwarts. No, that wouldn't have worked with the prejudice they held against her kind.

"You're late, Draco pointed out, looking down his nose at her with a touch of animosity. The truth was he didn't hate the girl, in fact, he was glad his father had found someone instead of lazing around in bed all day depressed, but at the same time he couldn't but help feel a slight pang of jealousy that Lucius had began to slowly move on and day by day stopped mourning the loss of Narcissa.

Draco loved his mother dearly; he was fond of his father, but his mother was by far his favourite person of the two. She was nurturing and kind and sweet whereas Lucius often tried in vain to rule with an iron fist and look how well that one turned out for them all.

"Where are my manners?" Lucius tutted to himself, scooting behind Hermione he grasped a chair and pulled it out from under the wooden table, the feet skidding across the polished floor renting the air with an ear-piercing squeal that just about burst all of their eardrums.

Gratefully, Hermione sat down. Draco and Astoria at one side of the table and Hermione and Lucius sat directly opposite them at the table. Hermione honestly couldn't get over the size of the table overall, lengthways she would probably need binoculars to see who was at the other end of the table should somebody be sitting there, and it was really starting to sink in just how ostentatious the Malfoy's really were. Lucky enough to be born into money and pass it on generation from generation she could only imagine the money they had tucked away in the vaults and why he was happy to drop an exorbitant amount of money on a dragon without even thinking it through.

"So you work at the ministry, Hermione?" Astoria's soft voice carried across the table where it almost faded away.

"Yes. I'm head of the regulation and control of magical creatures. I basically hand out permits to import foreign and dangerous species to _competent_ handlers." She made a point of emphasising the competent whilst she threw a glance at Lucius who tried to deflect it with his own glance of disapproval to rival hers. It didn't work.

"Then why did you give him one?" Draco interjected smugly; lips twisted into an amused smirk as all eyes in the room landed upon Lucius who felt their crushing weight.

"What is this? A Lucius Malfoy manhunt?" His voice wavered an octave or two in disbelief. "Grab your torch and pitchforks why don't you? " He admonished, running a hand through his platinum hair shakily.

"Were just having fun, Lucius," Hermione interjected playfully, elbowing him in the ribcage with little force.

"That makes two of us. Now, where is the f-" He was cut off just as the food appeared on the table and it looked as if the elves outdid themselves tonight. There was enough food to feed three times the number of people sitting here.

The meal went off without a hitch. The group talking animatedly between themselves. Whilst Hermione had relaxed somewhat, she couldn't help but feel a heavy gaze upon her from across the table but every time she looked up, nobody was looking at her. She was certain it had to be Draco with his judgy thoughts about her and how she didn't belong in the manor, much less in his father's life.

She had chatted for a bit with Astoria over the meal and found she really was a very sweet girl and wasn't as dull or as inept as Lucius had made her out to be, instead, she was just shy and reserved and that is probably what drew Lucius to that conclusion. In fact, she was nothing like the picture Hermione had made up in her head at all.

She noticed Draco was very distant from Astoria and perhaps it was just that they were under the watchful eye of Lucius and that might have been throwing Draco off. He was almost stiff and cold towards the poor girl whereas Lucius was currently holding her hand under the table drawing light circles with his thumb and she couldn't but help notice the stark contrast between father and son.

"Well, whilst you two play happy couple over there, Astoria and I are retiring for the night." He stood, inclining his head for Astoria to do the same.

"We are?" She asked, perplexed. She wanted to stay and talk to Hermione.

"We are, darling," He forced through teeth gritted so hard he thought he might crack one.

The palpable tension hung thick in the air and Hermione all of a sudden felt uneasy once again. She assumed she was the source of the aforementioned tension and it wasn't her intention to invoke these feelings at all.

"What's up with him?" She asked once Astoria and Draco had left the room.

"Jealousy at a guess. He is still touchy about his mother and he might see you as a threat."

"But he was the one that wanted me to come for dinner," she protested angrily.

"Draco says one thing, but he means another. He isn't as clear cut and dry as he appears, Hermione and right now, he probably thinks you are going to waltz in and erase all memory of his mother."

Hermione considered it for a moment, perhaps she would feel the same way had the roles been reversed but it wasn't like he was going to drop to one knee and ask for her hand in marriage. They were really only testing the waters and the relationship in its infancy so for Draco to assume she would march in and take over was so far from the truth it may as well be in the neighbouring universe and it made her question whether she really should continue to pursue the relationship should I cause strain against father and son. She wasn't here to impose by any stretch of the imagination.

"Are you staying or leaving?" Baritone voice woke her from her stupor and deep thought.

"I suppose I will stay." She nodded trying to push back the thoughts of Draco in her mind. She liked Lucius to a degree, and she could come to like Draco but not if he were to continue harbouring animosity towards her.

Lucius knew full well there was more to Draco's foul mood than the thought of Hermione waltzing in. There was jealousy, yes, that much was true however it wasn't because he was threatened Hermione was going to march in and play mother dearest. No, it was because deep down, hidden under lock and key was a fleeting feeling of desire for the girl and he was irate that his father got the girl he had pined over during his school years. Of course, he would never tell her that.

o-o-o-o-o

Lucius pushed open double doors to his bedroom and stepped in. She looked around in awe, it was something that she couldn't have imagined in a million years. The Victorian-style bedroom styled to perfection, floor to ceiling windows covered in velvet drapes, pristine carpet on the floor that looked like it had possibly never been walked on. A large black dressing table sat against the wall adorned with a mix of makeup and perfumes she could only assume Lucius never had the heart to rid himself of.

A large bed set in the middle of the room; golden coloured wallpaper hung perfectly on the walls all tied together with the black bedclothes.

She was certain she wasn't ready to copulate with him yet, but she was perfectly fine with sharing a bed with the man and sleeping cocooned and protected in his muscular arms, listening to his soft breath and feeling the tantalising touch of his skin against her own as it intoxicated her sense.

Slim fingertips reaching out whimsically to run against the top blanket of the bed, skin twitching at the softness as she walked the length of the bed and stopped to look at him.

"Well, hurry up and get naked," He growled low and deep in his throat with a hint of playfulness tangling in his voice.

"Oh, of course, you would say that." Eyes rolled playfully as she reached down and plucked the pillow in her hand and threw it at him playfully. He ducked with precision and it said over the top of his head and hit the wall with a soft thud.

It was at about that moment his face fell, and everything went glacially slow as if someone had hit the slow-motion button. He saw it before her but if he made a lunge for it, she would know it was there. If he left it there any longer, she would know it was there. Either way, he was royally fucked.

She noticed his gaze fixed upon the bed where the pillow had been and followed it. A small, white lace negligee folded neatly on the bed had been uncovered when she threw the pillow. It had been one of the last items of clothing Narcissa had worn before she had been slaughtered at cruel hands and he had placed it under her pillow so he would still perhaps have a piece of her beside him in his bed every night.

"Lucius, I'm so sorry. If you want me to go I can. I mean if you aren't ready to invite me into your bed I am totally fine with that and I don't expect it." She spoke fast and animatedly as heat crept up into her cheeks. She had no idea Lucius Malfoy had such a tender and soft side. She knew he cared deeply for his wife but not to the extent where he hadn't let go years later.

"I forgot I had put that there," mumbled voice met her ears as he looked down at the offending piece of material under his pillow. He really had forgotten all about it but now he had seen it, it had evoked and awoken many feelings he had managed to fight and claw away from.

Was he ready for Hermione to grace his bed? Was he ready to really let go or Narcissa and let Hermione worm her way into his heart and his home? He had nothing to lose and everything to gain but the uncertainty gnawed away at his psyche with vigour. He needed to make a choice and he needed to make it now.

Looking to Hermione and then back to the negligee he weighed up both in his mind. In his heart of hearts, he would always love Narcissa. He could stay miserable for the rest of his life holding onto nothing but the faint memories of her, or he could move on and perhaps open his heart to a woman who was here right now and looking as if she was willing to give a relationship with him a go.

He knew what he had to do. Leaning over the bed he picked the negligee up, large hands skimming over the silken fabric as it lingered on his skin pleasantly before dropping it to the floor into a forgotten, discarded pile.

He rounded the bed and slide an index finger under her chin, gently forcing her head up to look him in the eyes before pressing his lips hard and needily to her own.

He had made his choice. There was no point living in the past with nothing but bittersweet memories to keep you warm at night whilst you cried yourself to sleep alone and miserable.

Hermione wrapped her arms around his broad shoulders and pushed herself in closer to him inhaling the musky scent of his body while he intensified the kiss exponentially and she thought that maybe, just maybe tonight would be the night she laid her body out for him. After all, he had just shown her his most vulnerable side and she was surprised that he was human after all.

 ** _A/N: That chapter was way longer than I had anticipated but I have had the idea about the negligee under the pillow since I started the story and wanted to get it out there._**

 ** _I hope you all like the story so far! Next chapter might see the return of Dolohov and Lestrange and I don't think the dragon is going to be of any use whatsoever chained up in the garden._**


	17. Chapter 17

"I didn't know you were religious, Mister Malfoy," Astoria said innocently as she scooped up a forkful of eggs the next morning at breakfast as she sat beside Draco in the vast dining room.

Lucius's eyebrows snapped together in utter confusion and wondered what had brought that statement on. He was not nor would ever be religious in any capacity and practising witchcraft and Wizardry basically counted them all out from heading down to church on a Sunday morning. Actually, if he stepped foot in a church it would erupt in flames around him and take him down to Lucifer within the charred ashes of the church.

Hermione who flanked Lucius suddenly stopped chewing, eyes growing wide, she knew exactly where Astoria was going with this and she coughed loudly, almost choking on the food she had momentarily stored in her mouth. Oh Merlin, surely, they weren't that loud.

She wanted to stick to her guns and wait till she slept with him, but the time felt right. When he had invited her into the most intimate part of his life being the bed he once shared with his wife he loved dearly it was at that moment she realised he was serious about the relationship and decided to lay her body down for him that night and she wasn't disappointed in the slightest. In fact, it was probably the best she had ever had in her life. Ever. Not even a slight exaggeration although she didn't exactly have much to compare him to; except for Ron.

"Last night when I was walking back to bed, I heard you screaming out, oh god, oh god, it's been so long, I am coming. And at first, I thought you were praying but then I thought maybe you were dying and about to be reunited with God and I thought maybe I should help but I knew Hermione would have it all under control." She smiled sweetly, batting her eyelashes gently at him and continued to eat her breakfast.

The colour all but drained from Draco's face at the thought of his father fornicating with anyone, let alone the woman he went to school with and still had a little crush on hidden deep beneath the surface. The colour Draco lost from his face seemed to creep onto Lucius's own, cheeks blazing beet-red.

Hermione did choke on her own saliva as she tried to hold in a laugh that wanted to tear so badly from within her but she tried to tame it for Lucius's sake. Instead of a laugh, it came out as a snort.

"Oh sweet summer child," Lucius managed to bark out through the absolute embarrassment of what had just happened as his cheeks continued to flush red and heat crept over him.

Draco's mouth could only open and close soundlessly as he tried to push any image of his father sleeping with Hermione well out of his mind but the more he tried, the more his mind ran that vision through his head on a constant loop and he had to wonder how innocent Astoria really was if she had no inkling of what happened.

Of course, he hadn't slept with her yet. Well, he had slept with her in the same bed, but he had never been with her sexually. He liked the girl, hell he might even love her, but she wanted to wait till she was married before she offered herself and he was fine with that. It was often pureblood tradition to not try before you bought but those morals were slowly being pushed aside and shunned as the modern world began to take hold.

He elbowed Hermione in the ribs, "See, not the brightest," he whispered softly in her ear.

"Lucius," she warned sternly in a whisper. "She's not daft, she's just innocent unlike you with your mind that lives in the proverbial gutter every moment you are awake and breathing," she huffed.

"You know me so well, pet." He cooed sickly enough to make Draco want to throw his undigested breakfast right back up.

"So, what's everyone doing today." Draco clapped his hands together trying to steer this disgusting conversation in a whole new direction to where it was going right now.

"Work," Astoria and Hermione both said in unison, crossing their knives and forks across their plates.

"You work?" Hermione asked, perplexed. She had assumed being a pureblood and one Draco pursued that she would spend her days lying on a day bed being fed grapes by a poor house elf held against its will.

"Of course." Astoria smiled sweetly at her. "I'm a pureblood but I'm not from one of the affluent families. We are well off, but we got there by working hard and we still work hard. We weren't all born with a silver spoon in our mouth and I'm glad I wasn't. It has allowed me to have a somewhat normal upbringing and I have a very strong bond with my parents and sister."

"You won't have to work for much longer if you don't want to," Draco muttered under his breath just loud enough his father caught the words floating through the air but decided to hold his tongue.

"Well, I best be off," Hermione declared, pushing the heavy wooden seat out across the floor, a low groaning sound tore through the air as she did so.

"Me too." Astoria followed suit.

"We will see ourselves out, thanks." Hermione rolled her eyes when it was evident neither Draco nor Lucius was rushing to their feet to see them out.

o-o-o-o-o

"Anything exciting happening?" Dolohov barked in a deep Russian accent at Lestrange who had taken post opposite the Manor gates for the night, it was now Antonin's turn to relieve him and stake the place out.

"Nothing. Not a soul since I got here last night. You might have more luck today w-"

He was cut off by Antonin holding a thin, pale hand up signalling him to stop talking. The sound of gravel moving under-foot was that unmistakable sound that someone or more than someone was walking up the garden path towards the gates. The footsteps were light and not at all characteristic for a man and the feminine laughs that filled the air shortly after told them all they needed to know.

Both men slunk down lower in the bushes and peered out the best they could. Two lithe females began to draw nearer to the front gates to the apparition point.

"Is…That the Greengrass girl? Astoria?" Antonin whispered.

"And… Granger?!" Rodolphus almost choked on his own spittle at the image before him.

The two of them were totally perplexed at what they had just seen. The two girls walking along happily together, and Granger looked as if she had just waltzed out of the best time of her life."

"Let's go," Antonin growled low in his throat. He was going to get to the bottom of why Hermione Granger was almost skipping up the garden path and he didn't care who he had to kill to get that information. If Lucius Malfoy had invited her into his home and began treating her as an equal and more than the putrid Mudblood she was, he would see to it that the Mudblood met her demise like she once should have and Lucius Malfoy wouldn't be far behind at all. He had convinced the Dark Lord to kill Narcissa and break Lucius and he would see to it that Hermione Granger went down the same path and met a similar fate only at his own hands this time.

How dare Lucius get to go living the life he had grown accustomed to and he had to slink around in the shadows hopping from town to town under the guise of Polyjuice potion. He had drunk so much of that swill he was sure he was one swig away from not being able to change back into himself and he would be stuck as some filthy muggle for the rest of his life.

No. Lucius would pay for what he did. He would pay for jumping ship at the last minute to save his own ass.

o-o-o-o-o

"What did you mean by that comment before, Draco?" Lucius drawled as he lazily flipped through the Daily Prophet.

"What?" Draco asked with an air of innocence that shrouded him like a cloak.

"Something along the line of Astoria won't have to work anymore." He folded the paper gently together and placed it soundless on the table pressing Draco under his hardened gaze.

"Well." Draco shifted uncomfortably in his chair. "I'm going to ask her to marry me, father. All these years I hung around in this house to ensure you wouldn't be hanging around from a rafter because there were a few times there I was certain I would walk in on you swinging by a rope from your neck if I am honest. Now I can move on and do what I want. I can go marry Astoria and start a family of my own now that you have Hermione and you are a lot happier."

"You will still be here though, won't you?" Lucius asked, confused.

"Well, I mean, no. I want to go off and do things outside of this Manor. I don't want to be the same stereotypical Malfoy attached to my money and my ostentatious house; you know? I want to start a family in a modest home with a modest upbringing. I feel the pureblood ways are so archaic and Ludacris. It might have been ok to be affluent and show your wealth off years ago but not anymore, father. I want my children to grow up normal. Yeah? I don't want to be associated with the blood supremacy shit that the Malfoy name is synonymous for, " His voice cracked several times as he spoke, he had always wanted to move out and now was a good a time as any.

"And what am I meant to do in this oversized home all alone?" Lucius asked, almost offended.

"Sell it, knock it down, rent it out or open a hotel for all I care. Abandon it and move in with Granger, I don't know." His shoulders drew up in a shrug as his father looked more bewildered now than ever.

Lucius couldn't get his mind around the fact his own son didn't want to raise a family in the home that thirteen generations of Malfoys had been born and raised in.

"Do you know how long this house has been in our family Draco?" He asked, admonished.

"Yes. And I am not denying the heritage of the house nor the sentiment it holds for you but just because you have an attachment to it doesn't mean I do."

"You know what. Go, I don't care honestly. Go live in Astoria's tiny shoebox and raise a family of shoebox children who in a house you could barely swing a Niffler in."

"I will, and you know what, we don't even want a wedding here or anywhere. We are just going straight to the ministry."

Draco's words cut him deep. A Malfoy who didn't want a wedding or the Malfoy home?! This was unheard of; this was an outrage that is what it was. "Fine do that, see if I care," his voice full of malicious and anger and didn't mimic the words he had just spoken.

"Really? You don't care? Because the vein throbbing in your temple is telling me otherwise, Father. I'll be gone by this afternoon. I don't need you and I don't need this house." His teeth gnashed angrily.

"Honestly Draco, what has brought this on all of a sudden?" Lucius tried to calm himself by sucking in a few breaths.

"I don't know, you tell me," his voice an angry, low whisper that drifted through the air slowly.

"Really? You're angry because I slept with the girl? I am an adult, Draco, and I can sleep with whomever I want to whenever I want. I don't need my son dictating to me what I can and cannot do in my own life."

"You've just pushed all thought of mother out of your life and your thoughts and replaced them with her." He folded his arms tightly across his chest, closing his eyes tightly trying to stop the tears from falling.

"Draco," Lucius began. He assumed there was more to it than just that. "I love your mother dearly; I always have, and I always will but I can't be expected to not seek happiness or the comfort of another woman just because it upsets you. I am entitled to move on in my life as I would have expected your mother to do so if the tables had been turned and I was the one who had passed. Is there something more to this?"

"What? No. I am genuinely upset that you have invited Granger into our home and into your bed like you have known her your whole life."

Lucius narrowed his eyes, "There is more to it than that, Draco. Are you upset because I slept with her and you never got to? Were you holding out on making the next move with Astoria in a hope that you would get to whisper sweet nothings into Hermione's ear and claim her for yourself and now that I have stepped into unchartered territory and quashed any chance of that happening you are upset and you have realised any chance you had with her is gone and you have to settle with Astoria?" Check and mate.

"No!" He slammed an open palm on the table, the slap reverberated across the large dining room.

"Yes." Lucius raised a single brow.

"Forget it." He got to his feet, the chair he was sitting on skidding across the floor with force.

 **A/N: I know, I know. I've started two new stories and updated every other one and left this one in limbo, but I have to write whatever story I get inspiration for at the time and this one hasn't been giving me anything for a while.**

 **-Aliasmel1**


	18. Chapter 18

"Lucius. I wasn't expecting you." Hermione stepped back from her front door allowing him to step into her home. She had not long arrived home from work and was just planning on settling in for the night. Dinner for one, wine for three, the usual.

She realised things between herself and Lucius were getting a little more serious than she had imagined, and she didn't mind that really but maybe it was going just a little too fast. He was ten lengths in front of the Lucius of old and gaining in leaps and bounds and she liked that. She really did but deep down there was so trepidation, of course, there was. The long and somewhat maleficent history they shared couldn't be swept under the carpet and forgotten about in a day.

He stepped through the threshold and she went to shut the front door, a twig snapping from a hedge roused her suspicions as she gazed out of the door for a moment into the evening twilight before shrugging. Probably just a swallow in the hedge. They had been in plague proportions around here of late.

"To what do I owe the pleasure of your company so soon after we parted ways?" She locked the door behind them for good measure following him into the kitchen close behind him.

"Draco is gone. Can you believe it? Gone. Just. Like. That." He slowly punctuated the last of his sentence for added dramatic effect staring into the air as if his whole world had crumbled around him and his life meant nothing.

"What do you mean gone?" She cast him a half glance as she pushed him towards the kitchen where she had been cooking herself dinner for the night. Well, now she supposed she would have to share it with him too because it would be rude not to.

"Are you talking dead and gone or left the country or-" She was cut off abruptly.

"He's gone. Left the manor the ungrateful twat!" He threw his hands up high in the air in frustration, but the worry was evidently etched in the deepening lines of his face. "Said he was moving in with Astoria." He rolled his eyes hard.

Pacing the kitchen backwards and forwards he was almost beside himself. At one stage in his life, Draco was all he had… They only had each other when the atrocities befell Narcissa and their world was turned upside down and stomped on and now Draco had left him like a piece of used parchment in the bin and she got it, she really did. He would be lost wholly and fully without Draco but at the same time, she didn't want to be the rebound he clung to in his times of desperation. She liked him, she really did but she didn't know if she trusted him enough or could mentally prepare herself for him to cling on and not let go.

"What will I do with the Manor." His face paled at the thought of his families oldest and most significant assets falling into the hands of someone without Malfoy blood coursing through their veins.

"Sell it?" Hermione shrugged blankly taking a sip of her wine and gently stirring the pasta on the stove-top with a wooden spoon.

"Sell it?" His voice a strained squeal as if he had been grabbed by the balls. "Sell all of that history. Sell all that magnificent architecture. Five hundred years' worth of decor and history?! I think not." He sniffed indignantly.

"Well Draco won't want it and he is the only heir so I imagine he would just be rid of it when you aren't even cold in your grave. I suppose you could lease it out," she offered another solution only to be met with another snort.

"And have Merlin knows who traipsing through the sacred halls of my home? I think not."

"Turn it into a damn motel for all I care," she offered another solution to his problem.

He paled even more as if she had just insulted him on a deep and personal level. "Do I look like a motel manager to you? What would I do with the dragon?" He asked levelly snatching the glass of wine from her fingers and downing the rest, he would need more than that to deal with her terrible suggestions. Screwing his nose up at the wine, "Ghastly swill."

"Well," she began and snatched the glass back off of him and set it on the bench "No one forced you to drink it and I didn't realise a motel manager had a set of physical prerequisites to adhere to. And if you recall I am the one who advised against you getting a dragon and now look, it is chained up out in your bloody back garden because you can't control it despite assuring me it would be fine. Do you really need a huge manor with just you living there? All you need is a basic house."

He screwed his nose up at that statement. "I can control it thank you very much" he harrumphed loudly. "You want me to get a house like this?" He almost snapped, highly offended waving his hands around indicating to her house. "Where is the ballroom?"

"What on earth do you need a ballroom for, you dense cabbage. If you haven't worked it out you aren't holding any more balls. Who are you going to invite? You have no one anymore because they are all either in Azkaban or dead."

"Yeah, well I still don't know what he sees in Astoria," he tried changing the subject to diffuse the obvious tension that hung thick in the air right now like a pressure cooker about to go off in spectacular style. "Because she is more down to earth and he doesn't want to raise any of his children in the way he was raised," He spoke in a mocking, high falsetto rolling his eyes so far back he was certain he had captured a glimpse of his own brain.

"Well." She paused as she went to pour herself another glass of wine from another bottle she had sitting on the bench "He does have a point." She popped the cork, tipping a generous glass. The liquid hitting glass the only sound that filled the room now.

"What is wrong with the way he was raised?" Lucius's tone was cold and abrasive towards her now and she knew she had offended him.

"Well there is nothing wrong per se but we aren't in the archaic Victorian times now. All the Malfoy family values are based solely upon outdated aristocratic ways rife with corruption and don't try to tell me otherwise. Look at how corrupt you were and no doubt the corruption runs deep in the family. You wouldn't have thought twice about lining someone's palm with a stack of galleons to get your own way and you know it."

She glared at him just waiting for the backlash she thought would come but instead, he just stood, mouth agape opening and closing as if he were a fish well and truly out of the water and had no idea what to do or how to breathe right at this moment.

"So you can't exactly blame Draco for wanting to steer his future wife and children away from that and into a whole different direction to break the crooked and corrupt ways of the Malfoy line," She said matter of factly, arms pressed tightly across her chest daring him to counter-argue with her.

"The Malfoy line is based on nothing more than great people who had a lot of luck in their lives. We are not corrupt. Powerful maybe. Perhaps on more than one occasion, we used that power to navigate our lives in the way we wanted them to go but never were we corrupt."

"And the Queen isn't English. I am sure there may have been a good Malfoy somewhere along the lines once upon a time five hundred or so years ago but as it stands your whole line is known for evilness and corruption. It seems Draco is trying to distance himself so others don't think he is tarred with the same brush." Her chest heaved up and down as she breathed deeply. She was seeing flashes of the old Lucius that she once knew and hated beyond words. She could see cold hatred towards her slowly swimming into the depths of his eyes and she felt uneasy.

"Well. That is your opinion. You might think I am corrupt, but I am far from it. I honestly thought you were different Hermione. I thought you understood me and where I came from, but it seems I am so far left to where you are it isn't even funny. I have seen corruption at its filthiest. So filthy you wouldn't believe me. No one would. I have seen money cross palms to turn a blind eye to rapes, murders and paedophilia. I have seen some of the most elite in our society grease palms and walk away with literal murder. I have seen things that would make your skin crawl Hermione. I have borne witness to things that fucking keep me awake at night because I couldn't stop what was happening. Human beings murdered for no reason at all Hermione. Don't ever tar me with that brush because I am nowhere near in the league of what others are," Teeth gritted so tightly together his voice ended in a venomous whisper sending shivers down her spine.

Her face went blank and she lost all colour as she tried to work out the pieces of information in her head. "Well, why didn't you stop it? You killed for Voldemort!" Her voice a soft whisper barely audible as it passed his ears.

"How do you stop that, Hermione? How do I stop something like that happening without risk of compromising myself? These were evil people, right up there alongside Voldemort only without the magical means to execute their plans. I did kill, yes, but I only did so for my family. For their lives. Do you think I wanted to kill, Hermione? Do you think I wanted to be the puppet of a maleficent lord? I did it all for my family to keep them safe and look where that landed me." He threw his arms up high in the air and stormed from her kitchen before he did something he may regret.

Hermione heard the front door open and slam shut hard, rattling all the photos she had hanging on the walls violently. Well fuck.

Turning the stove off she stared blankly across the kitchen. Now what? They had been in a good place right up until now and she really couldn't pinpoint where it all started to go wrong. Perhaps he was just upset with Draco upping and leaving?

A knock on the door roused her from her stupor. She knew he would come back. Navigating the hallway to the front door she flung it open. "You're b-" was all she managed to say before she was knocked to the ground violently by two men. Her head bouncing hard off of the timber floor the last thing she remembered was being dragged into her sitting room.

 **A/N: I promise I haven't abandoned this. I just took a step back from writing for a while as it began to feel like a chore and I couldn't bring myself to write for a while.**

 **I hope you are all keeping safe at the current time.**

 **-Aliasmel1**


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